Je Désire une Employée
by PeaShootingHealer
Summary: Lena Oxton, a former Olympian, must now live her life anew in New York City. Discarding her old life after an accident, she gets a new job as a waitress at the restaurant Talon. Though it seems like a pleasant place to work, behind closed doors hides a terrible secret. Her manager, Amélie, has other plans for this new waitress. WidowTracer. M for later chapters. Warning BDSM, abuse
1. Chapter 1: Désiree-vous un emploi

Disclaimer: We don't own any of this. We are thieves, and I don't think I need to explain how I'm not a millionaire who owns Overwatch.

Author (Alec) Note: The other author (Kate) is French. She knows what, Je Désire une Employée means before anyone comments. Its how I, an American who speaks no French, misheard, Désiree-vous un emploi, the original title. I thought she said Desire an Employee. Which now explains the title. Also yes, this is a restaurant AU, bear with us, this is our NaNoWriMo.

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Chapter 1: Désiree-vous un emploi

Lena Oxton slid off of her bike, slipping it into the metal rack before locking it up. She took a deep breath in before letting it out, readying herself. "Alright Lena, you can do this. You've got a new life, new job, new apartment and soon even new friends. It's going to be great." Her face lit up with big smile as she made her way down the street.

Lena stood in front of her new workplace, adjusting her tie, flattening her short brown hair and fixing her glasses before pushing open the glass doors of 'Talon'. Mentally preparing herself and fixing the last bit of her uniform, Lena headed in to see the staff members rushing around to get ready for the dinner rush. In the middle of the tile floor stood a tall woman, her long hair pulled back into a ponytail reaching her mid back, a clipboard in hand as she ordered everyone around. Lena made her way to the women, her spirits high. "Hello, my name is Lena Oxton. You must be Amélie, It's a pleasure to meet you, love." She held out her hand to shake, eyes fixated on the woman in front of her, a smile firmly on her face.

Amélie looked down at the new girl, eyes narrowed, giving her a once-over. She was expecting the new hire to come today, but she was not expecting someone like this. The hires in the past were less enthusiastic, all underdressed and lazy, less prepared and willing to please. She took Lena's hand and gave it a gentle shake, her grip loose on the other's. "Yes, pleasure." Despite her words, the tone and meaning was not there. "Gabriel had told me you would be coming. You will be shadowing Angela." She said, averting her eyes back down to the clipboard, waving Lena off just as soon as she had come.

Hearing her name, Angela head over to them; the young server had golden hair pulled up into a high ponytail. Her dress shoes clicking lightly against the floor, "Yes, Ma'am, I will be watching over her." Amélie gave the duo a nod, leaving the them alone as she stalked over to the next employee, inspecting their part of preparation. Once out of sight, Angela held a hand out offering a shake to the new hire. "The first day is always the worst. It sort of takes time to get used to her." She admitted, nodding in the direction of the manager. "But don't let her deter you. Welcome aboard."

Lena grabbed her hand happily and enthusiastically, shaking it with vigor "It's great to meet you, love. My name is Lena."

"Angela", she said, retracting her palm from the grip. Lena's happiness proved to be infectious, a warm feeling washing over the other server. Out of all of the new hires she has trained in the years past, Angela had a feeling that this would be one of the most enjoyable ones yet.

It took all of twenty minutes to show Lena around the kitchen, introducing her to the chefs and waiters making up the restaurant staff. Par typical of a shift, each member was rushing around, the flow in and out of the kitchen making a chaotically organized mess; orders being shouted, the clinking of ceramic plates hitting each other, the sizzling of cooking items all combining and saturating the air. Only being able to part for their jobs for a moment, each person giving a simple introduction, welcoming Lena aboard with rushed tones in brief moments of rest.

Preparation for the dinner rush proved to be necessary, booths and tables slowly being filled as people poured into the restaurant. The scene had transformed, overhead lights dimming and yellowing, adding to the small white candles alit on each table top, overall enhancing the steady-going and dream-like atmosphere. Lena couldn't help but be slightly taken aback by this sudden transformation in the moments that she had been gone, her gaze wandering across the floor.

* * *

Amélie made her way back to her office, shutting the door behind her. As she sunk into the worn leather swivel chair, her mind wondered about the new girl. There was something familiar about her that the manager could not shake off, even when throwing herself into the necessary paperwork for that night's shift. The intrusive thoughts reached the point of zero productivity, Amélie ending up staring at the glowing screen of her computer, watching as the cursor blipped in front of her. Interest in the paperwork fully left her, a new tab being made in the margin of the screen. With long, painted finger tips poised over the keys, she quickly tapped out the name of the new employee into the search bar. 'Lena Oxton'. As the engine booted up the match, imagines and links popped up, returning Amélie's memory to her.

Images of the 2008 and 2012 Olympics appeared, each depicting Lena receiving medals in her track and field division coupled with the awards for hurdles; every other image showing her and celebrating with teammates at the end. Coupled with the snapshots, advertisement appeared scattered throughout the search, branding taking hold of their part of the olympian. Lena Oxton, adorn with the nickname Tracer, had been one of the most popular and well loved olympians in the UK, each image and article reflecting this point. Even upon losing there were images and stories of her congratulating the winner, Lena's enthusiasm for the sport itself and the company alongside it everpresent.

Amélie placed a spindly hand over her mouth, her mind flowing with questions. All ponderance related back to an overall topic at hand: What was she doing here? With someone of her background, working at a restaurant was the last thing necessary in Lena's life, every aspect of it being financially covered from contracts of years past. Her curiosity was quickly answered with a click of the mouse button placed over news article illustrating a car crash nearly two and half years ago. The medical report stated that Lena Oxton had arrived at the hospital barely conscious, vitals dropping with each passing moment. After only fifteen minutes she was pronounced dead. Ten minutes after the doctor had declared this loss of life, she awoke, despite all little to no questioning, the doctors began to work on her legs, reconstructing the bones that had been shattered by the truck that was at fault. Written in the report it stated that she was to 'Never walk again'.

Amongst the given information, Amélie pulled up other sites to find more information. Eventually, a fan site popped up, decorated with more candid snapshots of the olympian, a header so cheesily reading 'Cheers love, the cavalry is here' in orange, cursive font. The main page was mainly bare, save for two clocks, one counting down and one counting up. Stuck to the left of the page was a digital timer reading 'Countdown Until the Rio Olympics!' coupled with another clock depicting a matter so lightly described as 'Days since Tracer was Last Seen!'. Spaced around the digital clocks were many different links, all highlighted in bright blue font, a particular one depicting her recovery story was placed evenly under the snapshot.

Six months after the accident and countless hours of rehabilitation, Lena Oxton was able to finally taken her first steps. Her story was quick to becoming that of an inspiration, each detail defying the odds. A year had passed since her accident and against her couch's and doctor's wishes, she decided to sign herself up for a race, 400m. Halfway through, her legs gave out, sending the once olympian crumpling to the floor. Unable to finish, she left. Lena had not been seen from since.

The fan-created site had everything on Lena, or Tracer, as the mods so lovingly called her. They described an attempt at a tear-jerking backstory about how the young girl at age three was orphaned, never to truly be adopted. Despite this fact, it never deterred her from pursuing her dreams and education at the highest level. At the bottom of the article, further information delved into her past life, borderline creepy details including her grades and track record from high school and college.

Amélie wondered what Gabriel might have know about this girl, so little information being told to her in the first place. Sliding the wheels of the swivel chair across the floor, she opened the small filing cabinet next to her desk and fingered the tabs of the documents before pulled out Lena's file. Opening the light tan folder, Amélie's eyes scanned over the paper of her resume. Lena hadn't written anything about the Olympics or even her past college experiences; the paper only depicting some hours of volunteer work. With so little information given, she couldn't help but wonder what Gabriel was up to with her. Closing out of the tabs on her computer, Amélie thought to herself _I'll have to keep my eye on this one._

The dinner rush was about to begin and Amélie took great interest in how today would play out.


	2. Chapter 2: Je Désire une Nouvelle Vie

Disclaimer: As if it needs to be said, neither of us own or have anything to do with Blizzard or Overwatch.

Author (Kate) Note: I cannot explain how many times I told Alec "That is not how French works". Despite this struggle, going through this experience has been fun. I have enjoyed writing so far and more so appreciate all of the comments and support we have received. Thank you, all of you, and I hope you enjoy the newest installment.

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Chapter 2: Je Désire une Nouvelle Vie

Lena had been out all day scouring the streets for new apartment listings. Much to her dismay, luck had run out; coming up empty handed once again, with no possibilities within her current budget. With only two hours before work was to begin and a growing pain in her leg, the option to go home and rest seemed more and more tempting with each block.

The wheels of the bike clicked lightly as she pushed it down the street, pace beginning to slow as she approached her apartment building. Amongst the middle of the block was the crumbling reminder of complexes past. Standing five stories high, the darkened and stained facade had crumbled overtime, paint chipping off to reveal and expose the lain brickwork underneath. Littered amongst the walls sat rusted fire escapes and thick, exposed pipes, neither of which had been inspected for years, allowing the metal to fester and deteriorate. Accompanied with every window was a set of bars poised over the thin glass, thick and dark draped pulled tight, shutting out all light from the outside world.

As she approached the stairs, Lena lifted up the frame of her bike, picking the wheels off of the ground as she made her way up the few steps towards the nicked and scratched front door. The wheels touched the ground again as she reached into her pockets, pulling out a lanyard before rifling through her keyring, selecting the correct one before shoving it into the lock and pulling the door open. Entering, she closed the door behind her, looking down the hall, lights flickered overhead from dying bulbs, illuminating the old, stained carpet covering the floor. Around her, the drywall had started to chip off, exposing the brick within.

Halfway down the hall, she approached her door, quickly switching keys before placing it into the lock, twisting the knob open. As it swung open, she was greeted by the sight of a man with dirty, blond spiked hair sitting cross-legged in the middle of the stained carpet flooring "Shut the damn door!", he barked, his head shooting towards her, all form of concentration broken in an instant. Lena did as she was told, clicking the front door shut before sliding the golden chain lock into position. With how many times this scene had happened before, she knew the drill by now. The man was hunched over a lighter in his hand, poising it under a bent spoon, allowing the flames to lick at the curve of the metal. His hands shook, amber eyes opened wide as his face drew closer, watching the light sprouting from the plastic lighter in his grip.

Lena gave him a smile, ignoring the scene in front of her. "Good to see you too, Jamison." The only light provided was the small flickering flame in his hand, the rest of the room swallowed by the darkness, not allowing clear visibility. She glanced around, searching for the other roommate. "Where's -" she paused, her question gaining an answer when she saw a large mass slumped on the couch, the coffee table in front of him littered with empty bottles and used needles. "There you are, Mako", she said in a sing-song voice. With the two roommates never being keen on small talk and casual conversation in this state, Lena made a turn to the left, deciding to head to her own room. The hallway was littered with piles of open and ripped cardboard boxes, each overflowing with miscellaneous items never put away and allowing the mess to fester. Despite being shoved to one side of the hall, Lena couldn't help but feel cramped as the precarious boxes pushed her into the yellowed and peeling wall on the other side.

As she made her way, Jamison's voice could be heard, always loud in its nature. "She's a weird one, ain't she?" He asked, breaking concentration to look over at the lump on the couch. Mako groaned at that before shifting to the left and shutting his eyes, falling back to sleep. Jamie continued, inspecting the contents of the spoon in hand. "I swear she's got a screw loss or two." The lighter turned back on and he continued, unsatisfied with the spoon's current state.

Lena entered her room and turned on the overhead light, shutting the door behind her and propping the bike against the wall. Much like the rest of the apartment, the paint in her room was similarly yellowed and peeling, the window cracked and covered with strips of duct tape in attempt to seal the wounds. Despite this, Lena's worked to make the room as colorful and welcoming as possible, decorating it with what little bits she had.

Lena threw herself onto her bed, landing on her back as she looked up at the ceiling, the surface littered with several water stains from the apartment above them. She sank into the blue and green flowered and squishy comforter below her, taking a second to close her eyes and allow her body to relax. During her moment of rest, her mind wandered, thoughts conjuring the mantra of plans for the near future. _Wait a month or so before asking for more hours, find a new place, make friends at work and maybe get another job, hopefully not through, right?_ Each thought cycled through her head, a mental sigh following the last one.

* * *

Lena's shift was starting just before the dinner rush, leaving her with one of the last nights of training. As usual, everyone was running around in preparation for the expected influx, everyone setting up and mentally putting themselves in the zone. Lena stood close to Angela as she helped the main dining room get ready with setup, handing her medium stacks of perfectly white dinner plates off of a pushcart as she configured around the table.

The last two nights Lena had shadowed, everything worked out perfectly. As the teaching continued, Angela's direct influence lessened with every passing hour, almost leaving the new hire alone once she got into the hang of things. After picking up so much information so quickly, Lena knew that this was her last night being this close to Angela, part of her preparing herself to make the most of it while she was still there.

Amélie came out of her office with typical clipboard in hand, eyes searching over the wait staff "Where's Lucio?" Her voice was enough to stop the rush of the staff, the tone alone being enough to halt the flow in and out of the kitchen. She glanced over everyone expression,seeing that everyone had as much of a clue as she did. The scattered "I don't know"s provided no aid, Amélie's irritation only growing as result. Her glowering eyes bore down on Lena, simply standing next to her mentor, a small stack of dishes in hand. "Angela, is she ready?"

At this, she was taken aback, almost afraid to answer as if approving of her abilities was akin to pushing the new hire in front of a bus. Despite the reluctance, Angela nodded in response. "I believe so, ma'am. I'll keep an eye on her throughout the night."

"You better", Amélie commented simply before for turning around and heading to the kitchen, ensuring proper preparations were being made on time.

Angela regretted her action instantly, beginning to panic internally; worried what would happen if Lena were to mess up after her word was given. Placing a hand on the new hire's shoulder, she gave a reassuring smile to the shorter girl. "You're going to to do great. I just know it". Her tone was light and soft, masking any fear or doubt.

Lena smiled up at her, full faith placed in her abilities. "Don't worry, love. The cavalry is here." She straightened herself up, adjusting her tie and smoothing her apron for further proof of her professionalism. It took a moment for her to realize what she said, a small chuckle letting its way out alongside it. To hear her catchphrase was a foreign memory, one she hadn't visited in awhile. "Don't worry, I won't let you down. You taught me well."

Angela was unsure of how to react as of the moment, anxiety sitting in the back of her mind. Lena's optimism, however, began clouding any worry she had, putting Angela's nerves to rest. "Alright, but if you need anything, I'll be right here when you need me. I have full faith in you."

Lena nodded, a cheerful demeanor playing across her face. "Yes, ma'am."

As the night carried on and the dinner rush began, men and women began to file in, the tables soon becoming filled and the air lighting up with chatter. Lena made her rounds through the assigned tables, never faulting to take orders, pour more water, give the correct food to the right person, or even to make subtle side chatter when commenting about recommendations. Her normal mannerisms remained, addressing the guests as "love," and allowing her informality of speaking to carry over with her "what'cha"s. This made Angela worried, but Lena's customers didn't seem to mind. In fact, some even enjoying it, finding the young Brit and her lingo to be rather charming. Amongst a few of the tables, the more experienced server could hear them whispering about her as Lena left, commenting about how friendly the staff was.

As the night continued, the pain in Lena's right leg began to radiate, becoming an almost unbearable sharp shock shooting up her system. She decided to take an early break, sitting on the concrete curb outside of the kitchen, rubbing and down her leg slowly as she attempted to ease the screaming muscles. She hissed a little in pain as her thumbs hit a particularly tender spot, wincing as she dug in, working to soothe and calm. Between apartment hunting and the commanding workload, she knew she pushed herself too far.

A beam spread across the cement, the yellow light staining the ground in front of her as the back door to the kitchen swung open. As soon as it had appeared, the light sunk away as the door closed, a large, shadowy figure standing slumped against it. They began to reach into the breast pocket of their shirt, pulling out a carton of cigarettes before pausing, noticing Lena hunched over on the curb only a few feet away. Slipping it back in, s took a few steps forward, the larger women taking a seat next to Lena. "You alright?" She asked, her voice, although soft, held strong and deep .

Lena looked up at the woman, looking her over in the low, overhead light; easily recognizing her as one of the bartenders. "Yeah, I'm fine, just an old injury." She paused, her eyes running over the taller woman beside her, getting her first close look. "I don't think I've properly met yet", she commented, holding out her hand. "I'm Lena"

The woman took her hand in hers, the sheer size dwarfing the smaller one. "Aleksandra, you can call me Zarya." She glanced down, watching as one of Lena's thumbs rubbed a small circle into her knee. "May I?" she asked, offering her hand out again to take Lena nodded cautiously. Zarya reached her palm under the new hire's ankle, lifting it up slowly and gently before moving it closer to her. Once stretched comfortably in front of her, the woman took the limb in hand, wrapping her fingers around the sensitive muscles as she worked her thumbs around it, pushing firmly and slowly in a downwards motion, starting towards the top and ending at her ankle.

Despite the strong, firm grip, Lena could not help but feel her eyes roll to the back of her head, the pleasure of relief finally washing over her. She relaxed fully for the first time that day, relishing under the hands of the larger woman. Lena let a slow breath out as Zarya worked the tender sides of her knee, the pressure lessening as the knots slowly began to release. As the absence of pain began to wash over her, the younger woman jolted forward, realizing exactly how long she had been out there. She retracted her leg and gave her ankle a short roll, part of her not remembering the last time it felt this good. "Thank you so much. I feel much better now, but I need to head back in."

Zarya gave a short nod, fully understanding the demands of the restaurant "You sure you're alright?"

Lena smiled and hopped up, giving herself a quick brush, dusting off the back and sides of her pants, paying close attention to the small apron tied snugly around her hips. "Yeah, I owe you one, love. I'll see you around", she said, giving a small wave before pulling open the door and disappearing inside. As it slammed shut, Zarya couldn't help but chuckle, pulling out the carton from her breast pocket and wedging a cigarette in between her lips before setting it alight. Taking a drag and releasing the breath slowly, she couldn't help but think about how odd the other woman had been acting.

* * *

Author (Alec) Notes: Thank you to the people who favorited and followed. You make all of this worth it. While writing this I got a review from a guest that really kept me going. They brought up that they were skeptical of the AU. I'm not good at descriptions and I want to make this sound as appealing as possible. If anyone is good at writing descriptions I would love some pointers and/or ideas, just PM us. Thank you again, our next chapter will be the next day, not tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3: Je Désiree un Boisson

Disclaimer: (Sarcasm) I lied, I do own overwatch. How did you ever find out? (End Sarcasm) I hate disclaimers.

Author (Alec) Note: I am sorry this came out later then I had originally said. Thank you for all your support and patience. We are two college kids and we are doing our best. Hope you enjoy.

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Chapter 3: Je Désiree un Boisson

A month had come and gone since Lena had received her own tables and a long evening of waiting tables was coming to a close, the last of the patrons was filing out and made their way into the chilled air of the night. As she bid the last few people a good night, Lena strode around the floor, collecting all left over plates and tips left out, putting the silverware and remaining flatware away before removing the bills from the faux leather folder and tucking them into her pants pocket. Much like other nights, the occurrence and frequency of bills had reached an above average level, forming a nice folded wad lining the fabric of her dress pants.

Lena made her way into the side room next to the kitchen, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she leaned onto the granite counter top, waiting for one of the slow, touch screen computer to wake up. It took a few taps in the center of the screen for the aged machinery to process, the waitress letting out a satisfied sigh once everything caught up to speed. She began to type out her given employee sign in, making a jab at the smaller button in the corner, clocking herself out for the night and putting an end to her shift. Turning around, she began making her way out of the side room.

Instantly, she was stopped in her tracks, the bartender becoming a roadblock as they both halted, the larger woman blocking the door frame. "Sorry about that." She said, moving to the side, only for Lena to have done the same, providing no positive result from the action.

"After you," the waitress said, stepping out of the doorway on her side, allowing Zarya through. With a nod in thanks, she beelined towards the only computer awake and began the same process Lena had just finished.

Her fingers hit the screen with a somewhat forceful jab, the noise of tapping filling the still air as the glitchy system froze on her. "Got any plans?" She asked, thick voice cutting through the passive aggressive jabs at the nonresponsive tech.

Absentmindedly, Lena had been patting her pockets, making sure nothing had fallen out or became misplaced throughout the course of her shift. With the blatant address, she looked up and over at the Russian who had managed to make the slow system do her bidding."Not that I know of. Why?" she asked, a bit confused at the question; both in nature and motive.

"Good, then you're coming with me." Zarya stated, making a final tap, the screen soon lighting up with a final message before processing the clock out, refreshing the page to its home screen once done. Having no other plans, she gave her shoulders a slight shrug, decided to follow the larger woman. As they made their way through the main dining room, Lena waved at a few of the co-workers still on duty, bidding them all a good evening. The larger woman reached for one of the glass doors at the front of the building, grasping the thick, golden handle and pulling it open, exposing the outside world and the chill to follow alongside it.

Lena followed her out of the restaurant, allowing herself to be led across and down the street, walking quickly to keep up with the other's longer strides. The two turned a corner, the yellowing lights of the streetlamps and neon signs illuminating their path and the large cluster of businesses calling the street home. Zarya turned away from the middle of the sidewalk, reaching across and pulling open a glass door decorated with a black, block-lettered decal reading 'Overwatch Bar and Grill'.

The two slipped into the warmth of the room, shutting out the cold and darkness from the outside as music and lively chatter lit up the atmosphere. The medium-sized space was painted with light grey and pale turquoise tones across the walls, accented with the orange-tanned wood of thick panels lain across the surface. Comfortable dark leather booths pressed against the back wall while throughout the stone tiled floor lain small, square wooden tables, each accented with tall, pint glasses and an assortment of plates in the middle, dark napkins placed in front of every seat. Across the white painted ceiling strung rows of small circular lights, providing specific illumination across the tables and floor, adding to the comforting yet elegant design.

A long, polished oak bar sat towards the back wall of the establishment, forming a u-shaped counter around the glass shelves covered with endless amounts of different spirits. The front mirrored side of the bar was surrounded by a number of metal, leather seated stools, a handful of patrons taking refuge towards the left side of the counter.

Behind the bar stood a man wearing a typical white shirt and vest, each sleeve rolled and pinned past his elbows. Across his face lain bushy yet well groomed facial hair that sat around his mouth and along his jawline, thick sideburns connecting it to his medium length brunette hair. He had turned around, grabbing two bottles of an amber liquor, setting them on the counter before counting out the appropriate amount of shot glasses and setting them in front of himself, placing them all in a straight line. "It's High Noon," he said, the two bottles now held in either hand poised over the line before him and began pouring, starting from the middle and working his way to the outside. With only a short tip, each glass was filled with the speed and precision only a professional could execute, all liquid measuring at the same level. Satisfied with his work yet again, he spun the bottles akin to that of a flashy gunslinger, setting either one back down on the counter in front of him before pushing the smaller glasses to the rightful owners.

After giving the counter in front of him a quick swipe with an off-white washcloth and putting the bottles back in their proper places, the man took all of two seconds to notice noticed Zarya making her way towards the bar, Lena in tow. "Look what the cat dragged in," he said, his voice laced with a drawl unmistakably southern accent.

The larger woman snorted a laugh, planting herself on one of the barstools directly in front of the tender, placing an elbow onto the darkened wood. "Look who's talking," she shot back, the corner of her lip turned up in a smirk.

"And who's this?" He asked, eyes parting from the familiar friend to get a better look at the shorter brunette, sliding into the seat next to her.

She reached out a hand, holding it across the counter. "Hey there, love, I'm Lena." The bartender took it, his calloused and tanned hand grasping her smaller one in a firm shake.

"Name's McCree. Now, what can I do for such a lovely lady?" he asked, slipping the washcloth lain across the counter into one of his pants pockets, most of the terrycloth sticking out of his pants.

"You can get us some shots, she's earned it." Zarya said sternly, her voice still laden with stress from her previous shift. Given how packed and rushed the evening had been, the taller women knew that Lena needed it as much as she did, if not more so.

McCree reached under the bar and pulled out a shot glass, already knowing what his friend was going to ask for. "The usual then I'm guessing?"

"Of course."

The bartender turned around, grabbing for the medium sized clear bottle of her typical drink of choice. "Your friend over there doesn't seem like the type who would partake in vodka" He commented, twisting off the glass pourer attached to the lip of the spirit.

"Fine then, what would you want?" She asked, turning slightly to see Lena already scanning over the rows of bottles.

She thought for a few seconds, weighing her options before deciding to leave it completely up in the air much like the rest of the night had been already. "I'm good with whatever, love"

McCree smiled "Whatever the lady wants," he said before setting up another glass next to the original. Putting the bottle into position, he perfectly replicated the stunt he had done earlier, quickly pouring perfectly into each shot glass without a single drop missed or extra added. He set the bottle down, sliding the glasses to either of them.

Lena's eyes opened wide upon seeing this, more than impressed with the move and its execution. "Whoa, how'dya do that?" She asked, getting a closer took at the glasses, each one holding the perfect, exact amount.

"I've got a deadeye and a quickdraw. Perfect ounce every time." McCree said, popping the glass spout onto the bottle before putting it back into its place. "Enjoy you two." He said before raising his hand to his brow level, tipping an imaginary hat in their direction before shifting his focus to three new patrons on the other side of the bar.

Zarya pounded down her first shot, placing the glass back onto the counter with a slight clink. "So..How about you tell me about yourself."

Lena took half a shot, swallowing the small mouthful of liquid, setting the glass down onto the counter as the burning began to sting the back of her throat. She turned to Zarya. "Not much to say, love. I moved here roughly eight months ago and I'm just trying to get my footing."

"Where did you live before?" The larger woman asked, leaning her elbows onto the stained wood in front of her.

"London," She said finishing her shot, tipping back the last half of the ounce, the familiar burning bubbling up again. "and you?"

"My family moved here when I was little. I don't remember much, but I go to visit my grandparents back home at least once a year."

"You like it here?" Lena asked, soon getting cut off by the jarring bells of her ringtone. She pulled it from her pocket, eyes widening at the number flashing on the small screen. The waitress placed a hand over the phone, attempting to cover it up and make it look as if it was no one important.

"Pick it up, I don't mind," she said, downing another shot placed in front of her, offered to her by the friendly bartender.

Lena did, opening up her phone and taking the call "Ello, there." She began, placing the receiver to her ear. Only slight mumbling could be heard on the other side, nothing too audible. Lena continued to reply to whatever the other person was saying. "Yeah, are you calling about the room?" she paused, giving the other person time to speak. "That would be great. When can I move in?" Another pause. "Awesome, I'll see you then, bye." Lena then hung up somehow looking even more cheerful than usual.

Zarya had made herself useful in the moment of one-sided conversation by ordering herself two more shot, being downed one in a matter of seconds. "What was that about?" She asked, pushing one of the glasses on the polished wood, lining it up with the others.

The waitress slumped into the short backed barstool, relieved that the search had finally concluded after multiple weeks. "I've been looking for a new place and someone finally called back. I'll be moving in next weekend."

"Oh that's great. Would you want some help moving everything?" She offered, pounding down the last of her shots before setting the glass down onto the counter.

"That would be great. Thanks, love." Lena said with a smile, slipping her phone back into its pocket.

* * *

\- Un Jour Plus Tard - -One Day Later-

Another shift came to an end and after Lena had clocked out, she found herself standing in front of the closed door to the manager's office. She took a deep breath before raising up her hand, knocking lightly on the painted wood surface.

"Come in," the familiar voice called out from the other side.

Grasping the handle, Lena turned the knob, and pushed the door open slowly. She was greeted by the sight of the other woman sitting cross-legged at her computer, polished fingers poised over the keyboard as she finished typing up the sentence she was on. "Hey there," The waitress began, taking a step into the small, plain office. " I was hoping I could talk to you. If you had some time, that is."

Amélie turned away from her desk and facing the young woman in front of her. She ran her eyes over the smaller girl, not too thrilled with the sudden interruption. "And what would that be?" She asked, her eyes beginning to narrow.

Lena shut the door behind her without prompt, closing it with a click. "I was hoping I could ask for some more hours." Her tone of voice wavered slightly, anxiousness underlying her given confidence.

The manager turned back to her desk, right hand grasping the small black mouse and clicking through a few files before pulling up the waitress's personal file. "You are already working 24 hours a week." She commented, her eyes scanning the schedule behind her reading glasses. "Is that not enough?"

"I was hoping I could get more. You know, living in New York and all." The smaller woman gave a nervous laugh, hands finding each other as she held them in front of herself, squeezing the fingers together.

"And how much more would that be?" Her overall image unamused by the current situation.

"I was hoping I could get full-time, if possible"

"Hm." The manager made a noise in the back of her throat, eyeing the employee in front of her. "I am assuming that money is rather tight right now?"

Lena became increasingly awkward in this position. She gave a hard swallow, words completely escaping her.

"I'm going to take that as a yes." Amélie commented, tone laced with condescension. She shifted through a few more folders before pulling up an organized and color-coded calendar of given shifts and employees. As her eyes scanned across the back-lit screen, she placed a spindly hand against her lips, resting her elbow on the wood of her desk. "I suppose I can fit you in a few places. That should give you 40. Will that be enough for you?"

Lena's eyes grew wide, disbelief washing over her."Thank you so much, love, you won't regret it. I promise."

"Your new schedule will be updated next week. Is there anything else you are requesting?" The taller woman asked, focus already shifting away from the annoying casualty of words used by the employee and over to rescheduling shifts for the next week.

"Nope, this is more than I could ever ask for." She left Amélie's office with an extra kick in her step. Everything was looking up and she looked forward to everything life had to offer her.


	4. Chapter 4: Je Désiree L'aide

Disclaimer: We don't own any part of Blizzard or Overwatch.

Author (Kate) Note: It is my turn to write the author's note, and at this point, I am writing this at 3:53 am. I just wanted to take time and say how much I appreciate all of the following this fic has gotten. This started out as just an idea between me and Alec, so to see it not only taking life, but to also have people enjoy it as well is incredible. I hope that you stick around and learn more about the world we have crafted.

* * *

Chapter 4: Je Désiree L'aide

Zarya twisted the key towards her, the rumbling of the truck's engine dying down with each passing second as unbuckled the seatbelt and got out. Slamming the metal shut and manually locking it into place, the tall woman shoved the keyring into her pants pocket, giving the neighborhood a quick once-over. Between the rundown buildings and graffitied, stained, and trash-filled streets, a steady uneasiness grew inside the woman, a large part of her hoping that she had made a wrong turn and that the apartment complex was in some other, nicer area. The building in front of her stood in a barely functional manner, pieces of yellow painted drywall chipping away and exposing the brickwork underneath while the exposed pipes and rusted, crumbling fire escapes provided no relief. Quickly pulling out her phone, she backtracked to the previous conversation with the waitress, swiping up. Much to her dismay, everything matched up; street, building number, everything. She gave a short sigh, making her way up the crumbling stairs in front of the deteriorating five-story building, pulling out the small golden key attached to a slightly fraying lanyard from her pocket, a temporary gift from the coworker. Pushing the key into the sticky lock, she turned the grimy and dirty handle, letting herself into the narrow hallway.

Zarya's eyes scanned across each scratched wooden door lining the hall, reading the numbers off until one towards the middle matched up perfectly. Despite all information matching up, the uneasiness of the situation did not go away, sitting in firmly in her core instead. Standing in the middle of the frame, the large woman raised her hand, rapping her knuckles against the proper one, the old wood creating a hollow thud with each of the three knocks.

"I've got it!" The familiar, chipper voice called out from behind the frame. As the pair of footsteps began making their way to the door, they halted suddenly, a loud crash soon following after it.

"What do you think you're doing, don't you know they're after us?" another voice joined in; a man's, harshly and loudly whispering voice joined in, each word laced with a recognizably Australian accent. "Quick hide, I'll cover for you"

Lena chuckled, pushing away the suspicious words from the other person with her. "Don't be silly Jamison, It's just my friend from work" It took a few seconds for the door to swing open, the sound of multiple locks unlocking only adding to the bizarre situation. Upon seeing the bartender, the young waitress's face lit up even more, starkly contrasting the dark and gloom of the inside. "Hey, there!"

Zarya gave a slightly uneasy look, the entire situation being too bizarre to be handled in any normal way. "Hey…" She began, eyes darting past the other woman and into the room behind her, not being able to make out anything behind her due to the tightly drawn shades, shutting out all possible light from the inside. "Have you packed up everything?"

"Yep, all done." She stated with a cheerful demeanor, clapping her hands together as if dusting them off.

The Russian became growingly uncomfortable simply standing in the doorway of the dilapidated, and stained hallway, not wanting to see what other kinds of people were attracted to this sort of lifestyle. "So, uh, may I come in?"

"Yeah sure" Lena moved aside, allowing the larger woman through and into the musty, dank inside.

Her eyes shot around the inside, the emptiness of the main room becoming a glaringly obvious feature save for a couch, coffee table, and one other human-like shape. Jamison had jumped back, completely taken aback by the sight of the new visitor. The scrawny man looked up a bit at her, allowing his eyes to slowly rake over the features of the form in front of him before settling on her face a good couple of inches above the top of his head. "Aren't you a looker?"

She just gave her eyes a slight roll, unamused by the comments given by the greasy, spiky-haired man. "Where is your room?" She asked Lena, mindset on getting in and out of these repulsive and unfortunate conditions as quick as possible.

"This way, follow me" She began, taking a few steps towards the crowded hallway until her action was paused.

"Shut the-" Jamison began, voice raising from next to the doorframe before Lena ran back to the front and closed the door, sliding all of the right locks into place. "Now, isn't that easier" He commented, making his way over to the other roommate who remain passed out in a heavy lump on the couch. The man gave him a harsh poke in his giving side, gaze looming over him. "You alright there, mate?" After a few seconds of inspection, Mako remained wordlessly slumped. "Oh, good. For a second there I thought you were a goner." Jamison commented before sitting down at the base of the couch, pressing his back into the worn and stained fabric as he tilted his head back, staring straight up at the ceiling. Mako, however, had remained unmoved, and completely unresponsive.

"Come on." Lena nudged Zarya, soon leading her away from the two roommates and down the narrow hall towards her room. Throwing open the door, the outside light of her room shone through cracked windows, the first bit of light making its way into the apartment an unknown amount of time. The room remain barren and empty, all signs of life removed from the small, deteriorating yellow space, only a stack of boxes sitting at the base of the bed hinting that at one point, someone had lived here.

Lena headed over to the spot and removed one of the taped up cardboard boxes from the pile, leaving few others stacked beneath it to sit alone.

"Is this it?" Zarya asked looking around, the empty room, gaze only met with crumbling drywall and peeling patches of pale yellow paint.

"Yep. Well, that and my bike." She nodded over to the thin, blue painted frame of a bicycle propped up against the wall closest to the door, providing the only source of color in the bland and nearly featureless room.

Not wanting to think about the depressing atmosphere Lena once called home and remain in it much longer, the larger woman decided to shrug it off, pushing it to the back of her mind as the need to get in and out of there became top priority once again. "Alright" With ease Zarya picked up the remaining three boxes stacking them in her arms as the light weight of the objects provided to be no difficulty for the Russian.

The two made their way back out into the main room, Lena holding her smaller box tucked under one of her arms while grasping the metal frame of her bike with her free hand while Zarya remain close behind her. From the spot on the couch, the two roommates remain unmoved, huddled near each other in spaced out silence. The shorter of the two women took a moment to just stop, looking over the two men she had spent the past few months with, only to now be leaving that chapter of her life behind her. "Bye guys," She said, a small, fond smile forming on her lips. "I'm really going to miss you." Despite the given situation, the words parting her rang of nothing but truth, Lena already beginning to miss the roommates she had originally selected from an ad on Craigslist.

Zarya made her way around the smaller woman, tucking the boxes under her arms as she painstakingly removed every single lock on the door before allowing it to swing open. With a quick wave from the cheerful Brit, the two had left just as quickly as they had come, plunging the room back into darkness and silence.

Jamieson remain in his spot pressed against the couch, only tilting it to the side to get a view of his roommate, his cheek pressing into the other man's leg. "I think I'm going to actually miss her, what about you?" Mako remained motionless in his spot, completely unmoved and without any sign of life among him. "Well said, mate," the Aussie choked out, a single tear forming in his left eye, moved by his partner's words. "Well said."

* * *

A sense of relief washed over Zarya as she turned into the lot of Lena's new apartment complex, more than happy to a nice, normal, cared for structure in stark contrast to the previous nightmare that she was still trying to push from out of her mind. The ignition was shut off once a parking spot was found beneath a scraggly tree, the two women soon getting out and grabbing the things from the mostly empty truck bed.

The complex stood two floors high, painted a dusty blue with darkened wooden doors decorating the front of each apartment, a golden number signifying which one was which. Up the cement stairs and along the flat path in front of the higher level stood a pale and weathered, yet sturdy guardrail, placing the only indicator of age onto the complex. The two made their way up the smaller set of stairs pushed to the right of the complex before taking a mismatched set of wood ones, giving them a better view up close at the type of life that took residence here. Most of the blinds lining each small window poking out from the front entrances were open, allowing the natural light from the outside into the smaller spaces inside; an overall good sign.

"Here it is, Number 4." Lena stopped once the walkway reached a corner, the according number stood shining at her eye level. She rested the black rubber of her handlebars against the wall, propping her bike up as she knocked on the wood of the door.

It took only a matter of moments for it to swing inwards, no sounds of locks being removed or any slight hesitation given by the main resident. Out of the doorway came a woman whose height towered over Lena, a good few inches added to her advantage. From her tall stature to the fitness of her form, she seemed like someone who in any threatening situation, could hold her own for the necessary amount of time. Despite this, when she smiled, all form of threat or intimidation washed away, the emotion softening up the strong and sharp features of her face. "Hello, you must be Lena."

Zarya shifted the boxes in her grip down lower, getting a better look at the new woman Lena would be calling a roommate. In comparison to Lena's previous two, she had little to no complaints, the overall appearance and attitude of the woman coming as no immediate threat.

"Yep! And this is my friend Zarya." She said gleefully, giving a slight nod to the woman beside her; such a large and noticeable force that was hard to ignore and lookover in the first place. "Zarya, this is Fareeha."

The new roommate looked up at the other woman towering over her, measuring her with her eyes as if analyzing whether or not she could match her in a fight. "Please, call me Pharah," she said, moving aside and into the attached kitchen area, allowing the two space to enter. From the front door to the main entrance, everything was well lit and furnished. The main living room complete with a small, brown sofa, two arm chairs decorated either end as each seat faced a television set propped up by the dark wood of a console table. "Your room is to the right." Pharah said, pointing down the small hallway pressed into the wall closest to the kitchen divider.

Lena picked the bike back up and shifted her grip on the box, carrying both of her items inside with the taller woman closely towing behind. They made their way down the short hall and took an immediate right, parting through the already wide open doorframe. Inside, conditions only continued to improve with every growing second. The space was a rather good size, giving the room space to move around and breathe in, the plain white painted walls providing endless possibilities of new decoration. Flush against right wall sat a sturdy, wood-framed bed, metal supports on either side holding it up as small posts stuck up from each of its four corners. Above sat a good-sized window, the white curtains fastened to either side of glass panes, exposing the outside world and giving her a view of the apartment complex nextdoor. As she walked in, Lena couldn't stop smiling, setting her things in hand down onto the thin carpet lining the floor, allowing them to rest against the foot of the bed, Zarya soon adding her pile of boxes to the mix. The young Brit climbed onto the bed, sitting on her knees as she looked out the clear, clean glass of the window, peering into the neighbor's space as she began to formulate plans of how to set up her new room.

A rap at the door caused her concentration to break, Lena turning her head to see the her new roommate standing in its frame, part of her medium-length black hair tucked behind one of her ears. "Do you happen to have any plans on Wednesdays?" She asked, eyeing the other woman as she spoke.

Lena fully turned her body, sitting upon the naked mattress of her new bed, thinking her plans over in her head for a few moments. "I don't think so. Why? Need me out of the house for something?"

Pharah gave a short sigh, shaking her head slightly. "No, My mother insists on coming by every Wednesday with dinner and I know she will want to meet you. You don't have anything to worry about, though, she nice. For the most part." With no other words shared between the two, the new roommate made her way to the other room immediately across the way, shutting the door behind herself with a soft click.

Zarya removed her gaze from out the window, ending her brief period of zoning out while the two other women had their brief conversation. "Want help unpacking?" She offered, feeling useless just standing around without having productive thing to do.

The other woman shrugged, indifferent to the help. "If you want, love."

Zarya took out her keys from her pocket, using the serrated edge to quickly cut through the clear packing tape holding the box edges closed together. The load was split between the two of them, either party making short work with the minimal amount of items at hand. As they began to sort, small piles were made on the bed of appropriate similarity. Pulled out of the cardboard was mainly clothing, towels, or colorful bedding, each pile growing to a medium size as the amount left began to dwindle. Upon removing one of the last towels from her first box, Zarya paused as an added weight came up with the bundle, the terrycloth fabric folded in such a way that well-defined corners could be seen as it wrapped itself around the box-like shape.

Setting the towel down, the tall woman unwrapped the contents, exposing a small wooden case, either side and bottom covered by a thick polished wood, smaller glass panes allowing the smaller medal inside to be clearly seen. She examined it closer, the gold of the medal dancing in the natural light of the room, the familiar engraving of Nike with the stadium behind him shining back at her, the words 'XXX Olympiad London 2012' following the curve of the medal at the top. Sitting at the base sat a small, golden plaque reading 'Lena Oxton, 400m Women 49.50'. Similarly, situated on the outside of the case sat another, larger plaque reading in thin black letters: 'In my heart, you'll always have the gold'.

Zarya turned to Lena holding out the case in question, eyes shifting up to the woman in front of her. "Is this real?"

Lena parted from her unpacking and looked to see what Zarya was holding, almost instantly freezing in her position. She gave a small nervous laugh "Oh, yeah." She got up from her spot on the bed, taking it from the other woman's hold and gingerly wrapped her fingers around it, supporting the delicate framework. Without a second glance at the case or its contents, she lowered it back into one of the now emptied boxes, letting it rest flesh with the brown cardboard. "It's real. I just leave it in here though"

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, watching as the other woman set it down, leaving it and its importance alone and forgotten.

Lena's face had fallen, any fragment of her cheerful demeanor gone as she slowly got back up onto the bed, going back to her original unpacking duties. "I don't compete anymore, so I just don't talk about it."

It took almost no time at all for Zarya to pin the two together, explanations forming in her head between the little known information regarding the smaller woman. The sudden inability to compete coupled with the intense leg pain from their first interaction played in her mind, a sense of pity began to form for the other woman. She just nodded in response and moved on, continuing to help Lena unpack the rest of her things. After she grabbed a pile of clothing and moved onto the next box, Zarya spoke again. "I still think you should hang it. You should be proud of your accomplishments."

Despite the overall pain regarding the subject, Lena pushed aside all negativity, allowing a facade to be remade instead. She gave Zarya a smile "I don't want to be one of those old Olympians who have all their medals just hanging about." Instead of questioning it further, the Russian gave a slight nod, simply going back to work.

* * *

Another dinner rush was passing by at work, the normal influx of people making the waitstaff and chefs busy as always. After Lena made her way through her given section for the night, taking three orders, she beelined towards the side room, quickly tapping one of the touch screen computers, typing in her employee ID. As she began entering the orders into the system, the manager entered the door frame, only looking around until she spotted the waitress. "Lena, when you're free come to my office."

Lena gave a small nod in response, words failing her upon hearing the request. The other woman parted from the doorframe, the sound of high heels clicking away as the waitress was almost frozen in position, taking a few seconds to recover before getting back to work. A little while later after a few more orders were taken and placed, Lena made her way to Amélie's office and put a fist up to the door, giving it two soft knocks before parting it open slowly. "You wanted to talk to me, love?"

Upon entering, the manager remained in her usual place, positioned at her desk and clicking away at her computer, filling out the newest report or evaluation. "Yes, I wanted to check in with you. Have a seat."

Lena's heart was racing as millions of different possibilities sped through her mind, each adding to the anxiety of the given situation. She pulled out the chair that had been tucked into the other side of Amélie's desk and planted herself down onto the wood of the seat. The waitress folded her hands over her lap, fingers weaving together as she sat there patiently, mind still racing as her foot anxiously bouncing up and down.

Once the tapping of the keyboard ceased and the application had been closed out of, Amelie turned her seat, facing the younger girl. Her nylon stocking covered ankles crossed as the manager inspected Lena, narrowed eyes glancing over the black vest and white buttoned up shirt her of uniform before resting on the waitress's soft, innocent facial features. "Now that you have your new schedule, I wanted to know how it was going for you."

Relief began to wash over Lena, realizing the origin and intent of this meeting. "Oh it's going great." She began, a smile forming on her face yet again, putting her almost permanent feature back into place. "I'm really enjoy working here."

"That's great." Amelie got up from her seat, towering over Lena. "It was rather troublesome to fit those hours in." Worry began to build up inside of Lena yet again, her lips parting as an apology began to form on her tongue. But before she could say anything, Amélie continued. "I am telling you this because I am wanting one thing in return." She had taken steps towards the young waitress and made her way around the desk, arms loosely crossing over her chest.

"Sure, love, anything." She managed to make out, the previous bout of relief escaping her as the other woman made her approach.

The manager moved in closer, her hand now placed on Lena's small wrist, pinning it to the dark wooden arm of the chair. The younger woman looked up, craning her neck to get better sight of the her higher up, towering over her. Amelie looked down onto the waitress, pressing her wrist down firmly. "Your complete compliance." She said, dark words laced heavily with the weight of her accent, adding to the anxiety and danger of the situation.

Lena's brown eyes widen wide at this, lips parting wordlessly as she struggled to come to terms with what was going on. She stared up at the other woman, completely lost and unable to form anything remotely regarding speech as her mind raced, reality still coming to terms with her. Amélie's other hand grabbed at Lena's jaw, long fingers wrapping around the angles of the bone, holding it completely still and in place. The manager leaned down as she forced their lips together, pressing her soft, full ones into Lena's. Frozen in place, the young hire sat firmly in her chair with nowhere to go any no way to fight back the unwanted advance. The grip on her chin tightened as Amélie pressed harder, her lips planted firmly onto the other's without letting up.

After a matter of moments, Amélie pulled away, her intimidating, looming glare meeting Lena's eyes. "Do we have an understanding?"

"You.." She began, words failing to come together as her entire ability to properly form speech crumbled in front of her.

"If you don't understand then you can say say good-bye to your job." The words left her lips with a concerning easiness that left Lena in alert, her insides on fire and her mind with possibilities that she did not want to think about.

"You can't be serious." She blurted out, emotions running hot as the possibility of all she had worked for becoming useless, crumbling around her due to chance interaction.

"I am, now do you understand?" The grip on her jaw tightened, pressure from the hold growing into an uncomfortable, painful pin, making the younger girl wince in response.

Lena nodded, small and defeated under the towering authority of her manager.

"Good," she said retracting her hands and harsh grip from Lena's jaw and wrist. "Now go back to work."

Slowly, Lena made her way out of the seat, finding her footing as she began towards the door, the overwhelming fear and confusion of the situation making her steps heavy. As she began reaching for the door handle, Amélie called out yet. "One more thing, Lena"

Lena stopped in her tracks, reluctantly turning around to face her manager."Yes, ma'am?"

The corner of her lip turning up in a half-smile upon hearing the word ''ma'am'; a refreshing, more appreciated term, highlighting her power over the waitress. "You know better then to tell someone, right?" The woman asked, resting her chin upon an elegant hand, her elbow placed on the wood of the desk.

Lena gave a slow nod. "Yeah.." She muttered, completely defeated under the authority of her higher up.

Amélie simply waved her off and Lena continued her shift.

* * *

Author (Alec) Notes: Who votes we give Jamieson and Mako a spin-off fanfic?


	5. Chapter 5: Je Désirée la Sécurité

Disclaimer: Wah, wah, Don't own, wah wah, wah, wah Overwatch, wah wah. Meh. -Alec, 2k16, because Kate doesn't want to associate with me.

Author's (Alec) Notes: I'm sorry for how late this was, and we are fixing our schedule now so that these chapter can come more regularly. Also, I didn't know anyone read these. I just thought I was talking to a wall. But, due to you guys responding to a Jamison and Mako spin-off we will start writing one. This might take a while, since we have school and are trying to focus on this and I'm working on two one-shots. I think I can safely say expect the spin-off to be in December. P.s. This won't be a one-shot. Kate hates me, but I think they deserve more than a one-shot.

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Chapter 5: Je Désirée la Sécurité

Amongst one of the many streets of New York sat a warehouse much like every other one similarly lined up beside it. Inside sat a woman, her feet placed on the desk in front of her as she leaned into the leather backing of the swivel chair. With little to nothing to do, she let out an exasperated sigh out of boredom, taking a second to push back the long hair that had fallen in her face, pushing the dark brown strands laced with lighter purple highlights and tucking it behind the pierced shell of her ear. With her fingers lingering towards her scalp, the pads of the woman's fingers brushed over the short, peach fuzz of her hair as if attempting to groom the other, finely shaved half. She moved on in her actions, beginning to picking at her long, purple painted nails, removing any trace of dirt or dust from underneath it with the tip of her thumb nail. The more she picked at them, the more her scarred eyebrows knit together, further examining. As she continued, her concentration was occasionally broken, looking up as she checked on the progress of one of her most recent programs executing on one of the LCD screens in front of her without error or halt. The action itself did little to hold her interest, the lines of code whizzing past the screen as the program debugged, giving her no time to read any part of it and analyze how much longer it had.

The quiet fans running of the computer beside her was the only noticeable sound in the cold stillness of the warehouse. With its cement flooring and thick walls, the chill of the outside morning air hung within the room. The woman glanced up from the current picking at her slightly chipped nail polish, looking over to the man in from her. Standing a good twenty feet away, he faced one of the rows of boxes, his phone pressed to his right ear as the hushed deepness of his voice could be heard through the one-sided conversation. Another order, no doubt.

Bending over her desk, the programmer propped up her head with her hand, the flat of her elbow making contact with the desk as the entertainment of the situation fully escaped her. With the new orders of the day having been filled out and the program in front of her currently running, amusement had quickly escaped her as the necessities had been done and the only other person in the building was currently occupied. Her eyes scanned the expanse in front of her, raking across the emptiness of the smooth cement floor, the wall opposite of it lined with a series of metal garage doors down the way. Opposite to the doors sat a rows upon rows of crate and boxes, each of which was stacked upon a metal framework that reached up towards the tall ceilings.

The squeaking of old hinges cut through the air, interrupting the whirring of modem fans and briefly halting the order being placed, her attention shifting to the right of her as the side door was pulled open. The loud clicking of heels making contact with the polished cement of the floor echoed through the air, a second pair of softer footsteps following it Through the open door emerged Talon's current working manager, her long dark hair put up into its usual high ponytail, every loose piece pinned back and kept free from her face, outlining ever softened angle and curve of it. The woman maintained her professional composition despite her current given location, the lowered neckline of her dark shirt underneath being covered and framed by her form-fitting black suit jacket, the outline of her hips and thighs shaped by the curve of her pencil skirt.

As she strode down the middle aisle towards the two to the back, a shorter man followed alongside her, his own segmented hair pulled back into a similar, shorter ponytail. The casualty of his street clothing clashed heavily with the manager's professional facade, a large green hoodie and pair of cargo shorts standing out from her all black attire. Over his shoulder was slung a pair of rollerblades, the boots black accented with little light green wheels, both scratched and accented with wear. The man hesitantly followed the woman in front of him, the anxiousness of the situation playing on his face as he tried to keep up with her longer, more purposeful strides. Amélie eyes were narrowed, glaring back at the man once she realized he was hesitant to follow behind. "Come on, Gabriel told me that it was an emergency."

She strode across the cement floor, heals clicking louder than they had before as she beelined towards the man in question, each step purposeful. "I'm not mad at you," Amélie began, enclosing the distance between the two of them, pulling his concentration away from the current celular conversation. "But, you know better," she left little room between the two, the woman sizing up the taller man, poking a finger to the middle of his chest as she jabbed the fabric of his shirt immediately under his sternum, her voice tight and stern. "Lucio could have been caught."

With the receiver still pressed to his ear, Gabriel muttered an, "I'll call you back," before pressing the small button at the bottom of the screen, putting an end to the call before stashing the phone into the pocket of his jacket.

The programmer sunk behind her computer screens and placed the hand supporting her chin to partially cover up her smile that began forming. Sitting back and keeping away, she watched as the usual drama began once again, starring her favorite bone-head of a boss and business partner, loving every frequent installment of it.

The man turned to face Amélie, looking over the impatient woman in front of her, the tip of her finger pointing harshly into his skin beneath the fabric of his shirt. His face was littered with reddened and paling scars, each hinting at previous altercations of his past, contrasting with the dark tan of his skin. Short, dark brown hair poked from out of his gray beanie, matching the color of his thick eyebrows and trimmed facial hair situated around his mouth, allowing the top of it to grow out into a thicker mustache.

Gabriel's dark eyes darted over to Lucio, eyeing the distant man before his gaze shifted downwards, glaring at the shorter woman. "It wasn't my fault." He said, placing a hand on her wrist to move the finger at his chest away from him. " I read the order. The time and place were correct."

"You should've looked closer." Amélie's voice grew tight, tone laced with accusation as her stance and demeanor did not lighten up, her hand dropping down to her side.

"Sombra!" He called out over his shoulder, attention shifting towards the woman currently hiding behind the computers, watching as the scene unfolded in front of her. "Pull up that order"

She slid her chair over a little upon being addressed, head poking out from behind one of her screens. Still slumped into the leather of it, she removed the hand from slightly covering her mouth and placed it back to propping up her head. "No can do boss. You told me to delete it."

"When did I do that?" His voice deepened in an anger that began to grow by each passing moment.

"You said, 'Sombra don't forget to to clean the files.'" Her heavily accented voice twisted around its usual sound, her tone deepening in her best mock attempt.

"Yes, clean, not get rid of."

"Ay dios mio. What do you think clean means? I go in there with a brush and scrub it?" Slight amusement began to play on her face as the usual stupidity of her boss was beginning to get to her.

Annoyance began to bubble up deep inside of him, frustration lacing his every word as his point remained misunderstood. "I mean, make sure no one is tracking your files."

Sombra laugh arrogantly at that, the corner of her lips turning up in a condescending smile."No me hagas reír. You think someone can track me?"

"So then," He began, now walking over to the desk only a handful of paces in front of him, "how often have you 'cleaned' away files?"

"Every time you've told me, boss. My computer is running at peak performance with no files on it." Sarcasm lightly laced her voice as she began opening up the application currently running, getting into the management settings before accessing the previous orders, selecting the document in question.

"What!" He hit the desk in front of him with the bottom of his fist, the flesh making hard contact with the firm wood.

"No puedo creer que tan estúpido eres. I only kid; I keep back-ups. I hoped that not even you were that stupid to really mean 'clean it'." Her eyes shot between the paper in question and her boss's gaze before a quick selection was made to the page, erasing the current meetup location and changing it to another one more frequently used.

"Then where is the order?" He asked, growing impatient with every passing second.

"Right here." Sombra said, pulling the copy fresh out of the printer, the paper still warm from the process. She held it up and to the side in a three-fingered grip as if to flaunt the proof.

He reached over and grabbed it from her hand, ripping the sheets away from her as he looked it over, scanning the text in a matter of seconds before scowl began forming on his face. "This isn't the right order, this isn't what I saw."

Amélie took a few steps forward over to the wooden desk that Gabriel had been standing in front of. "Let me see" She said, taking the paper out of his hand and giving it her own look over. It only took a matter of scanning to notice the glaringly obvious discrepancy. Her look raised from the paper to meet the man's eyes, her own gaze narrowing into that of a harsh glare. "So Lucio was making a delivery for no reason."

"This isn't right," he began in a saving attempt, verbally shoving aside the physical proof against him. "I know what I saw. Sombra show me the right one."

The programmer's gaze shot back to the screen in front of her, scrolling the wheel of her mouse as if giving an attempt to look further. "That's all the orders from that day," She stated simply, giving a short shrug of her shoulders.

Gabriel placed a hand over his face, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as if to diminish the tension in the air; all current blame being placed on his shoulders. "Fine, I messed up. Happy?!"

Amélie's reaction remained unmoving, an almost permanent unamused look resting on her face. "No. Because of you we are behind on orders and Lucio was almost caught, and that means we were almost caught." Her eyes remaining narrowed upon Gabriel's as the paper in her hand became crumpled up in her grip. "I expect better of you next time."

"Who do you think you are?" He asked, almost taken aback by the attempt to size him up, questioning his authority and motive behind the mistake.

"Apparently the only one here who is competent." She verbally waved off the other man, sick of his lack of knowledge and having her time wasted because of it. Amélie turned to Sombra, eyeing the programmer who remained unmoved from her position at the desk. "I need you to come by later and make some adjustments to the POS system. You will need to make a new employee profile. A new hire will be starting up soon and they need to be added to the roster." Without another word, Amélie turned around and began heading out the side door, a scared Lucio following close behind; the two leaving almost as quickly as they had come.

Sombra gave a small wave goodbye to the other woman's back as she parted out the door, the action unnoticed. "Hasta luego" She called out as she pressed the button on her computer screen, closing the door behind them with a soft "Boop."

* * *

Pharah had spent her afternoon running every which way with, fixing up and cleaning almost every aspect of the apartment. To hear footsteps storm up and down the halls for a good half hour, occasional stomps mixed in with the loud whirring of a vacuum cleaner made many different questions rise within the waitress. She decided to give her roommate some time and allow the activity to slow down before eventually opening the door to her room and peaking out.

Lena made her way over to kitchen to see the other woman bent over, eyes cast downwards as she worked. "Everything alright, love?" She asked, leaning on the raised up counter on the other side of the partition.

"My mom will be here in ten minutes and I forgot to clean the kitchen." She said, her eyes cast downwards as she began scrubbing a sticky spot on the counter with a wet sponge in hand. "She will never let me live this down if she sees it."

Lena made her way around the partition, eyed the acceptably cleaned kitchen, the small stack of dishes being the most notable aspect of it aside from the counters slightly messy from last night's dinner. "Want some help?"

Pharah stopped for a moment, almost in shock at her own stupidity. Living on her own had gotten her used to doing everything by herself, so to suddenly have an extra pair of hands was an advantage she was not used to yet. "Yes. Go clean and set the table. I'll handle the dishes and everything else."

The young Brit gave her roommate a small salute before making her way into the cramped space of the kitchen, squeezing herself against the side counter to remove the necessary items before heading over to the four person table situated near the back wall of the living room. Helping prepare for the dinner rush of evenings worked in her favor as each place was set perfectly in no time at all, each one meeting restaurant quality standards.

The kitchen was mostly done when a knock on the door broke the rushed silence, the heavy sound of firm knuckles on the wood tearing the roommates' concentration away from the task at hand.

"Coming!" Pharah yelled, giving her hands a quick dry in a fluffy white terry cloth towel before putting it back in its proper location before rushing over and pulling the front door open.

"For a moment there I thought you had forgotten me, Fareeha." The woman's voice held a similar tone to Pharah's, only her accent deepened at specific points of each inflection, its overall tone holding less of a serious authority than what her daughter has adopted.

"Mother, you know I look forward to your visits every Wednesday." She paused "Every wednesday" she said again slight emphasis to the every. With a soft, short sigh, she held the door wide open, allowing room for her. "Come in, mother."

The older woman had taken the opportunity, making her way inside before taking off her long, dark grey overcoat before handing it over to her daughter who had placed it on the back of a stool nearby. She began removing the medium blue head covering from around her, unwrapping the few layers from around her head and neck, releasing her long white hair pulled into a braid that fell to the bottom of her ribs. Her bangs hung over the right top of her face, effectively covering a large part of her milked-over eye. Hanging up the scarf alongside her jacket, she took a quick glance around the open space of the apartment. "Where is this Lena girl you talked about?"

Lena gave a small wave, stepping out from behind the cover of the hallway after having given the two enough room. "That would be me, love."

The mother looked down at the other woman in front of her, the younger of the two standing a good few inches shorter than her, the top of her head covered in spiky brown hair reaching the bridge of her nose. She held out a hand, the skin of palms and fingers worn slightly. "It's a pleasure to meet. I'm Fareeha's mother. You can just call me Ana."

Happily, the waitress took the hand in front of her, giving it a firm, polite shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well. I'm Lena Oxton."

She let go of the other's hand, letting her fingers slip by as she retracted from the shake. "Lena Oxton.." Ana repeated the name given to her only a second ago, allowing it to sit on her tongue as she rolled through her mind thoughtfully. "Why does that sound familiar?"

Pharah signed, cursing her mother's feigning memory when hung up on unimportant topics. t. "You probably remember her name from the Olympics. You watch them religiously every two years." She stated matter-of-factly, words laced with slight annoyance at the verbal detour.

Lena was taken aback by this, her eyes widened slightly as she looked over at her roommate. "How did you know?" She asked, her tone raised in shock.

"I heard you and your friend talking about it. Our rooms our right next to each other." she said her arms crossing in front of her, her tone slightly annoyed.

"Right.." tone deflating as the realization hit her, part of her wondering what else the roommate has heard in the little time she has lived with her.

Ana took a second to think it over, her mind taking a little time before her memories caught up with her in a noticeable fashion. "Now I remember you. You were a cute little runner. Always going around congratulation people. I wondered how you had so much energy. They called you something," she gave her fingers a snap, as if trying to conjure the memory forth, "what was it again?"

"Tracer." Lena answered back, perking up in stance as a small, forced smile grew on her face, a facade growing to hide any sadness from the negative connotation that now connected to some of the best years of her life.

Ana caught on, her motherly instincts kicking in once she saw through the fake bout of forced happiness the former olympian was exhibiting. "Who's hungry?" She asked, clasping her hands together in front of her.

"I am," The younger girl replied, her voice ringing in a sing-song way; ultimately welcoming the change in subject

The older woman gestured her to the kitchen, leading the girl into the small space. "Good, then you'll be my helper."

Lena's face quickly lit up at that, following close behind the other woman as she began to remove necessary supplies from the cabinets.

Ana looked over at her daughter from the other side of the partition, voice dropping in volume as she leaned slightly over the counter to get closer. "I like this one. Make sure you keep her."

* * *

Following the pattern of every evening, the wait staff at Talon was put to the test once again as they set up and prepared for the expecting dinner rush. Lena had been following Angela as she had during her nights of training, assisting the woman in prepping the tables, all the while making small talk as they worked. Amongst the light chatter and exchange from dishes to the table, the waitress found herself becoming distracted once the manager made her way into the main dining room, the presence almost making her halt in her actions. Beside the taller woman stood a shorter girl around Lena's height, long, thick dark brown hair reaching down to her midback, bangs cut straight across her brow line, resting right above her eyes and pushed over a bit to the side, outlining the smooth features of her face.

It only took a moment of scanning, Amélie's glaring eyes scanning over the preparing staff before landing on the waitress, their gazes locking. "Lena," she called out, voice strong in nature but lacking volume, the weight of it alone carrying across the floor, tearing the brunette from her position.

Without hesitation, the waitress made her way across the tile floor, hard soles of her shoes clicking with each step before she stood in front of her higher up, posture rigid and immaculate. "Yes, ma'am. What is it?" Though nothing had happened yet since then, the thought of what Amélie could do still ran through her head, the looming threat only being proposed a little over a week ago. She anxiously maintained eye contact, true fears hidden down and away from the woman's sights.

The manager placed a hand out and to the side, gesturing to the young woman standing next to her. "This is Hana," she began, glancing between the waitress and new hire to the left of her, Amélie's face lacking amusement, "she will be your shadow for the night."

Lena shot the new hire a welcoming smile before looking back over to the manager, giving her a small, understanding. "Right then, don't worry about it. I'll do my best."

"You better," she stated simply with little to no inflection, soon parting from the two women just as she had come.

The waitressed watched as Amélie walked away, long strides making their way across the tile floor, leaving the young woman stiff with anxiety of the simple comment; its intention left too open-ended for comfort. She remained almost frozen as her mind raced a hundred miles an hour, both wanting to know what she had meant in her ominous speech and wishing to push any recollection of it happening out of her working memory.

Hana took a step in front of Lena, eyeing the woman that she would be shadowing before placing a hand up, waving it in front of her in an attempt to get attention. "You alright in there?" She asked sweetly, her voice hinting of sass.

Lena took a deep breathe in before letting the air out in quick and quiet sigh as if to shake herself out of it. Although her tone proved to be a bit awkward, its inflection pushed aside any worry, providing an air of reassurance. "Yeah, here just stay close to me. I'll take care of you, love"

The new hire gave out an anxious laugh, attempting to play off any anxiety that arose upon the causal use of the pet name. "I hate to break it to you, but I have a boyfriend."

The waitress's eyebrows knitting towards the middle with slight confusion playing on her face. "Alright?" She said more in question than anything else.

"Just so you don't waste you time," Hana continued, placing a hand on her hip.

It took a moment for her to catch on, the woman soon realizing the point of miscommunication. "Don't worry, I call everyone love." She said, waving off the other girl's anxiety towards the situation.

"Mmm, Alright" she gave her shoulders a slight shrug before beginning her night of shadowing, following Lena around as she learned began to learn what being a waitress actually meant.

* * *

Amélie sat at her desk, the light sound of the tapping of keys filling the air, providing the only break to the normal still silence. The office door swung open and closed in only a moment, no former knock or noise alerting the presence of another person to soon enter and tear her from her work. "You called?" a heavily accented voice asked as soon as the door had clicked back closed.. The manager eyes shot up from her given workload, her gaze landing on the programmer in front of her.

"How many times have to told you not to come during business hours?" She asked, eyes narrowing as she glared across the room at the other woman who made herself at home as soon as she got there.

Sombra was quick to brush off the manager's words, ignoring them with ease."Don't worry, no one ever sees me. It's like I was never here."

The manager became quickly unamused with the unwelcomed presence of the other woman, the timing and place of it all wrong. "Tell me, did you switch the location on the order?"

"Me?" The other woman asked, gesturing to herself, a moderately surprised look playing on her face. "No"

Amélie eyed the other woman, giving her a quick look up and down, analysing whether or not she was being honest for once. "Really?" She asked, tone laced with disbelief.

"Yeah, what do you think I am, stupid?"

"No, just bored." she sighed, adjusting herself in her desk chair, resting an elegant hand against her chin to keep it propped up. "I need you to stay focused."

Sombra made her way across the short space between the door and the desk, reaching forward for a small vase that sat next to the computer monitor, picking it up as she inspected the small rosebud inside. "Is this about Gérard again?" she asked, eyes parting from the blooming red petals to rest on the gaze of the other woman.

Amélie's face hardened at the question, voice becoming sharp as she snapped back, emotions getting the better of her. "I told you not to mention him."

"Alright, but it is about that, si?" The vase was set back down, its delicate glass making contact with the wood again, her eyes never parting from the manager's.

The manager retracted from her previous outburst of emotion, her usual, cold facade taking over. "Yes." She stated slowly, the volume dropping.

"Don't worry, they won't get away this time. Cross my heart and…" she smiled, pausing before the childish saying was completed, never believing the true meaning in the first place, "you know the rest." To see the manager all worked up over the simple slip of a word was worth annoying her in the first place, the normally cold and collected woman snapping at just a mention. She couldn't help but inwardly smile. "I'll just go fix the POS," She began, heading back over to the door, pulling it back open, "see you later." And with that, she disappeared back into the hall, making her way to the room housing the three touchscreen computers without being seen by anyone.

It took only a matter of moments before Hana rounded the corner, making her way into the side room before she froze, catching sight of the out of place woman in front of her. Shock got the best of her, a scream bubbling up in her throat before the programmer reached a hand out, clasping it over the younger girl's mouth before a sound could be made. "Keep in down alright?" She began, looking over the girl's face to make sure they were on the same understanding. "I'm just fixing this, niñita." She then removed the hold, switching her focus off of the new hire and back onto the touchscreen of the computer, the black screen now coming to life.

"Do you even work here?" The new hire asked, taking a step back and giving the other woman a once-over, the unprofessional appearance of the other throwing her off.

"Si, think of me as tech support." Sombra began to jab at the slow touchscreen, opening up the management profile and beginning to mess with the given settings.

"What's even wrong with it anyway?" She asked, moving in closer to inspect what the other woman was doing.

"This old thing gets so buggy with so many people slamming their fingers into it" she said, pausing in her work as she glanced over to the nearby bar, shooting a glare at the bartender on duty, the large woman currently making a few drinks for the thirsty patrens in front of her. Sombra looked back to the shorter woman, giving the unfamiliar face a once-over "You're the new girl, right?" She asked, opening a different file in the management settings. "What's your name so I can put it in here."

"That would be Hana. H, A, N, A."

"Alright," she pressed into the screen of the computer, entering the name into the given line. "Do you have a last name or are you just Hana?"

"It's Song, but could you like, put a nickname instead?" her voice teeming with hopefulness.

"You know where you're working, right?" she asked, typing in Song without allowing any room for change regarding protocol.

"Yeah," she began, tone defeated and defeated, "but, you work here and you look like that."

"No one ever sees me." She commented, closing out of management before setting the POS back to its original settings. "Have a good night, Hana Song." With a wave goodbye, she had disappeared as quickly as she had come.

* * *

Author's (Kate) Note: So many characters introduced in this chapter. In all honesty, if anyone deserves a spin-off, in my opinion, it would be sassy Sombra. I hate Alec and he hates me.

Author's (Alec) Note: She's joking, one spin-off, that's it.


	6. Chapter 6: Je Désire Une Femme

Disclaimer: If I didn't write this would people think I own Overwatch of Blizzard?

Author's (Kate) Note: It has been an entire month since we have last updated. Can you believe how busy life can make you? Thank you for every read and comment that we are getting on this. We appreciate every bit of it.

* * *

Chapter 6: Je Désire Une Femme

Angela stood beneath a streetlamp, the yellow light that flickered on illuminating the small breaths released into the chilled night air. Over her arm was folded a long black coat, the cold proving to be not enough for her as she remained idle, dressed in a long black and white striped shirt combined with a pair of capris. As she waited, her gaze was fixed on the setting sun, the slow morph of colors playing in the sky, sinking from brilliant yellow into dark purple. Idly, she would glance down at her wristwatch, lighting up its small face with the press of a button.

From around the corner came Lena, running down the cement of the sidewalk as she weaved in and out of the ongoing pedestrian traffic. Her hair had been spiked up and messy, one of her only night off allowing her the freedom to express herself. Instead of her normal black and white waiter uniform, she was dressed in a beige jacket, a warm white sweater sitting underneath it while a pair of nice black pants fit comfortably to her legs. Looped over her shoulders sat a small leather backpack, resting on the mid of her back. The sight pulled Angela away from the small, glowing face of her wristwatch as the other woman stopped in front of her. Lena gave the other woman a smile, placing one of her hands on the back of her head as she gave her neck an anxious rub. "Sorry about that, got a little lost back there."

The other woman gave a small smile, pushing away the other's apology. "It's alright. I'm just glad you are here now. I was afraid you had forgotten."

"I would never." She commented, wrapping her hands around the slim straps of her bag, bouncing in her place as she awaited excitedly for their night together to begin.

"Alright then, you ready?"

The small moving crowd of the walkway parted as a man made his way through, a beanie pulled low over his head… Coming up to the two of them, the man fully rammed into Angela, sending the woman to fall backwards and onto the cement. He grabbed for the small white purse thrown over her shoulder, ripping it from its current spot as he took it into his own grasp before taking off quicker than he had come.

Lena quickly bent over, helping her fallen friend back to her feet before turning back, watching as the man in question continued to run down the darkened city streets. It took the waitress all of a few seconds to snap into action, her legs carrying herself faster and faster down the sidewalk as she began booking it. She began weaving in and out of oncoming foot traffic as her speed worked in her benefit as the distance between the mysterious man began to close. Anxiety began to plague the attacker as she approached him, the woman attempting to surpass him at an alarming rate. He passed by a row of trashcans, immediately pushing one of the plastic bins over in a weak attempt to throw her off. Lena kicked hard off of the ground, her legs hurdling over the roadblock as she remained unphased, jumping with ease. In a matter of seconds, she passed by the attacker, blocking him off as she stopped. He had halted just a moment before running into her, his next actions fully lost in his mind as he threw the purse at Lena's head, hitting her before it fell to the ground, the thief's feet continuing off as he continued running.

Lena bent over and picked up the white bag from the ground, giving it a good brush off as she turned around, heading back over to her still shaken up friend. With every step, waves of pain shot up her leg, her eyes crinkled as she attempted to swallow a wince. Her breath was smooth and calm, a warm smile beginning to form on her face as she pushed the discomfort down, handing the purse back over to her friend. "You alright, love?"

"Yes, thank you." Angela replied, her voice still partially quiet as she took her bag from Lena's grip, still partially frozen from the excitement of the situation. "How did you do that?"

"I was just lucky he dropped it, my arms are just for decoration after all. Not much good at fighting."

"I ment the running and jumping." Despite the excitement of the situation beginning to settle, her tone was still laced with wonder.

"Just fast, that's all." She said with a shrug, not playing into the other woman's questioning.

"You're keeping something from me, and I don't think I like that." Angela commented, a teasing tone lacing her voice.

"Oh, right," she began, giving her forehead a small smack in realization, "I forgot to tell you. When I was little I was given something that gave my super speed. Did I never bring that up?"

"No, you must have forgotten. Though after what I saw today, I'd believe it." A small smile playing across her lips.

Lena gave a small laugh at the other's words. "So where was this place you were talking about?"

"Right, just over here" Angela gestured before leading her down the street and to their destination.

* * *

As the night carried on and the temperatures began dropping, the two women to head back, not wanting to end their excursion just yet. After a brief walk to Lena's apartment, She led Angela up the small set of cement stairs in front of the complex before removing a lanyard from her leather backpack and sticking the key into the lock. A rush of warm air and yellowing light greeted the two as they filed into the entryway.

Inside, the apartment was alit with the hushed chatter of a television on low, the bright and flashing lights of it reflecting off the back wall as the visuals danced across the screen of some show put on just for background noise. Pharah was heading into the kitchen with an empty plate in her hand, crumbs of a recent meal decorating the ceramic below. She immediately stopped upon seeing her roommate home entering their shared home, a new person in close tow behind her. As the dark haired woman remain in her place, she found herself staring a little too much at the newcomer, eyes scanning over her.

Lena caught sight of Pharah as she closed the wooden door behind the two of them, shutting off the flow of chilled air inwards. "Hey Pharah, this is Angela. Angela, this is Pharah."

Angela gave the roommate a gentle smile, held out her hand in front of her for a shake.

The other woman remain in her place, dish in hand as she felt herself frozen in place, taken aback by the sight of Lena's friend. Despite this, she found the ability to reach her free hand, connecting them in a firm yet soft shake as the warmth of her palm enveloped Angela's slightly chilled one. Never before had Pharah seen a woman so beautiful.

Angela gave a small laugh as she retracted her hand, almost flattered with how the taller woman was reacting to her. "It is a pleasure to meet you." she said, voice as warm and radiant as her presence.

Pharah gave a slight nod, still a little at loss for words. "Pleasure to meet you too."

"She'll be spending the night," The Brit commented, cutting into the flustered air and ending her small bout of silence, "I hope that's okay."

The other roommate became increasingly aware of how awkward she must've seemed, standing in one place, and grasping a dirty plate, dressed down from work since she was not expecting any company. She decided to make herself the least bit useful and continue into the kitchen like she originally planned, placing the dish in the sink as she turned the water on and began to scrub the hardened crumbs away. "Yeah, is everything alright?" she asked, slight concern lacing her words.

"Yeah, I just thought it would be fun." Lena commented, looking around the corner and into the living room, catching sight of the TV just turning to commercial. "You watching something?"

After a long day on duty, it was nice to wind down; let the TV drone on in the background as the first bit of relaxation that day was felt again. But after having her short bit of time alone, that need was no longer there. "No, you guys can have it."

"How about we watch something together." Lena suggested, heading into the shared living space as she put her small backpack down on the counter.

Pharah gave a slight shrug, not opposed to the suggestion. As she finished up and placed the now dry dish back into the cabinet, she made her way in and went to the coach with Lena and Angela.

Lena sat herself in the middle, between the two women as she changed the channel, putting on a cooking show for some quick, cheap entertainment. It took only a few minutes for the brunette to fall asleep after that, her head slumping over and resting on Angela's shoulder. With their host asleep and the droning of an announcer's voice in the background, Pharah looked tentatively over at Angela and seeing that her concentration on the show was wavering. "So, how did you and Lena meet?" she asked, cutting through the lowered TV volume.

The other woman turned away from the TV, finding more entertainment in conversation anyway. "Work, you?" She asked, her voice slightly hushed as to not wake Lena.

Pharah smiled a bit. "Internet, I was looking for a roommate." At this, Angela had laughed a little, finding humor in their origin. She decided to continue, further questioning the newcomer. "How long have you guys been going out?"

Angela's cheeks tinged with pink, her face flushing slightly at the question. "We aren't going out, we are just friends."

"Oh," Pharah's voice jumped slightly, a bit surprised at that, "Sorry, I just heard date and thought..."

"Just a friend date." The blonde said, verbally waving off any aspect of miscommunication regarding it. She continued, turning the question over to Pharah. "Are you dating anyone?"

"No, single. You?"

"Single." Angela smiled, knowing exactly where this conversation was going.

"Really? I'm surprised to hear that." Pharah paused, working the words around in her mouth for a moment before gathering the small bit of courage to continue. "Would you want to go out sometime?" As the question left her mouth, she began to inwardly cursed herself, fearing that she has asked too quickly and too early.

"I would love to." She said, corners of her lips turned up in a gentle smile. The gaze shared between the two women was parted as Angela glanced down at Lena, the brunette's head still tipped back and mouth slightly open, eyes still closed as she remained asleep. "But first, I have to get this one to bed."

Pharah sat up in her seat, ready to get up before Angela beat her to it and wrapped her arms around the smaller woman, effectively picking her up with ease due to Lena's small stature. "I'll see you in the morning." The blonde said, voice hushed as she shifted Lena in her hold to make it more comfortable for the two of them.

"Good night." Lena commented, voice laced heavily with sleep as she remained half-awake, lazily slumped over the body of the other woman. Pharah gave a small wave as she watched them disappear down the hall and into her roommate's bedroom.

* * *

Much like every night since its opening, Talon experienced the dinner rush in full force once again. Lena found herself rushing from table to table in a familiar pattern experienced by her other shifts; feeling enough of the rush to keep her on her feet and prepared for whatever the night had to throw at her, but not enough to keep her from making small talk to the patrons and occasional coworker around her.

After taking the order of a middle aged couple having their first date night out in a matter of years, Lena weaved her way into the small side room, tapping the screen of one of the computers awake before entering the order. As her fingers tapped at the digital buttons, the loud clacking of heels could be heard from behind the waitress, making harsh contact with the tile of the floor beneath them as they approached closer.

"I need you to come to my office when you are done." The familiar voice of the manager said simply, each word stated with purpose and meaning, the heaviness of her accent shaping and twisting the message.

The waitress felt her heart stop immediately for a moment, the organ sitting heavily in her chest and creating a pressure that could not be neglected. Her mind now began to race with the possibilities of what she could want, distracting her from any action or speech save for the frozen stillness she currently exhibited. Lena gave a slight nod, finding herself at a complete loss for words. Just as soon as she had come, the manager departed from the smaller room, making her way back to the office; the clicking of her heels slowly getting fainter and fainter.

Once the brunette finished placing the order, she gave a brief sigh to calm down before turning to the shadow of the night standing right next to her, now looking at her in a questioning way. "Take over while I'm gone. If you need any help, just ask Angela. I'll be back in a jiffy." Hana only nodded slightly in response.

Lena made her way down the small hallway, finding herself in front of the manager's door yet again. She raised her knuckles to the wood, giving two small knocks before opening it. Upon entering, the sight of Amélie filled her vision; the tall and slender woman leaning against the desk, facing the other woman.

"Lock the door." The manager said plainly, her narrowed eyes locked onto the waitress's. Lena complied, pressing her thumb into the indent of the door handle, locking it behind her with an audible click. Amélie's gaze explored its way up and down the other woman as she picked herself from the lean on the desk before taking a step forward, closing the space between the two of them.

Working on instinct alone, Lena took a step back, exhibiting a subtle retreat from the other woman. "Did I do something, love?" She asked, forcing an innocent smile in hope to defuse the awkward tension of the situation.

Amélie took another step, matching its pace perfectly as she now towered over the waitress, backing her up into the wall behind her. "No."

As Lena took another step backwards, she hit the wall, her upper back making full contact. She could not help but breathe in quickly, the surprise of the situation forming a small gasp. The waitress looked up at the older woman standing a good few inches above her, her heart beginning to quicken and pound within her chest. Wordlessly, her mouth began to move in attempt to form anything resembling speech, but to much dismay, nothing came out.

The larger stance of the manager kept her there, effectively blocking her off from any route of escape as Amélie's slender hands made contact with Lena's clothed shoulders, pushing her further into the wall as she held her firmly in place. Without a word, she leaned down slightly, getting onto the other woman's level before connecting their lips together, pressing her full painted ones into Lena's.

As Amélie's soft lips met her own, Lena's eyes shot open, the anxiety of the situation only increasing. Her breathing became hard and fast, her muscles beginning to tense as she tried to move away from the other woman.

Feeling the slight struggle from the other party, the manager slid one of her hands down the fabric sleeve of Lena's harm, wrapping her long fingers around the slender part of her wrist before bending the arm up, effectively pinning it to the wall. The older woman parted away from their kiss, lips leaving each other as she lowering her head slightly, connecting hers to the soft, smooth skin of the waitress's neck.

Lena turned her head slightly, tilting it away from the other woman and the unwanted actions. "Stop," she begged weakly, "please.."

Amélie's grip on the wrist only tightened, becoming harsher as the kiss to her neck became an open mouthed one. The flat edges of her teeth raked across the sensitive skin for only a moment before clamping down onto the flesh, closing in a harsh, punishing bite between Lena's neck and shoulder; just low enough for her bottom lip to brush against her shirt collar.

A gasp of pain could be heard from the waitress, her muscles tensing yet again as she attempted to push away Amélie with all of her might. The manager inwardly thanked her office for being soundproof as she slipped a knee in between Lena's legs, separating them and using her position to her advantage. Retracting from the bite, she placed a light kiss on the afflicted area, the hand formerly placed firmly on her shoulder now traveling up and behind, her fingertips now tracing lightly along the back of Lena's lower neck. "Don't you want this?" She asked, her voice cutting through the silence of the room.

As the older woman had pushed herself onto Lena, she couldn't help but feel the discomfort at her middle, every stimulus adding to her growing wetness. It was a fact of the matter that she tried to push away, ignoring exactly what the actions were doing to her. "What do you want?" the waitress asked, eyes looking down and away; too anxious to connect her gaze.

"Are you forgetting our deal?" Amélie asked, her voice smooth and hush, breath ghosting Lena's exposed, sensitive skin; eliciting a shiver shiver down the other's spine. Following the end of the question, the long, perfectly manicured nails of her slender hand removed its position from the back of her neck, reaching forward to undo the top button of the waitress's shirt.

Lena lips turned up into a scared smile, features twisted with discomfort and anxiety of the situation, a small, fake laugh following suit. "You were serious?"

"Do I honestly seem like the type of person who would joke?" She asked, tilting the younger woman's head up as she moved away from her neck, their eyes meeting as she undid another shirt button, exposing more of the expanse of skin below.

Lena's body had begun to shake as Amélie continued her actions, her mind on fire as she began ways of plotting escape from the overpowering woman's hold. But nothing seemed like it would work. With every new plot, plan, possibility that popped into her head, the more hopeless she became.

With its hold parting from the plastic buttons in her grip, the manager moved her hand, allowing the tip of her finger to trace along the brunette's exposed collarbones, Amélie soon bringing her lips down to the middle of her neck where her soft lips met Lena's sensitive skin. A quiet groan bubbled up from the back of her throat, head tilting back as she almost melted under the sensation. A blush began to creep its way across across her face as the growing wetness between her legs became more and more apparent.

The corner of Amélie's lip turned up in a slight smirk as she watched the other's reaction, pressing her knee further between Lena's thighs. As she continued, the other woman could feel her face heating up, a dark red painting her cheeks as she gasped quietly, color adding as her confusion regarding the situation only grew. Popping a few more of the buttons open, the older woman slipped her hand into the opening as she stroked the soft heated skin of Lena's side. With her free hand, the younger woman attempted to grab open sides of the shirt and attempting to close it from Amélie's touch.

The manager placed her lips back onto Lena's in an instant, curious to see that her reaction had changed since their first attempt, the younger woman kissing back at first; letting herself slip away in the moment of pleasure. It only took her a second to realize what she had done, the waitress too lost in the other's lips to immediately react; letting herself slip further away from reality. As the their lips remained locked together for those few moments, Amélie removed the loosened hold from Lena's wrist, allowing her now free hand to rest on the clothed curve of her waist as the other hand still trapped inside the shirt traced along the heated surface of her skin and around to her back, unlatching the hooked band of the younger woman's bra.

As the fabric began to slide down, the reality of the situation hit Lena once again, the woman immediately coming to her senses as she pulled away from the kiss, further removing herself from the loosened hold the other manager had on her.

Upon the repeated attempt to of escape from the other part, Amélie grabbed at the other woman's wrists yet again, her tight hold forcing them to the wall. "Do you really want to do that, you foolish girl?" She asked, her voice tight and strict, an eerie collected calmness lacing every word. Continuing her lack in ability to form speech, the other remain in the managers domineering grip, her power and authority towering over the waitress as she remained there, frozen and confused in her own world.

In a matter of moments, the older woman threw Lena's wrists down by her side, fingers now wrapping their way around the opened panels of her work shirt before stripping it off, the loosened straps of her bra following alongside it; pulling the fabric down and away from her, exposing her and leaving her chest completely naked. In the pale illumination of the overheard light of the office, Lena's heated and flawless skin glowed lightly, becoming more and more tempting by the moment as Amélie raked her eyes across it.

Completely open and exposed to the other's gaze, Lena instinctively pulled her arms over her chest, covering up the forced indecency as the other woman hid the slight swell of her breasts. As the struggle of compliance continued, Amélie's frustration only grew with each passing fight; the woman patience eroding away with every instance.

Amélie wrapped her slender fingers around the naked skin of Lena's shoulders, grabbing and holding her hard as the tips made deep indents into the other's flawless skin. She took a step back, moving the other woman along with her as she turned them both around; the grip soon turning into an open palmed pushed, as she sent the other woman falling backwards. Lena caught herself on the desk behind her, her fingers curling around the wood as her lower back made harsh contact with the blunt edge. As she held herself in place, the waitress watched as her higher up began closing the space between them yet again, her gaze eyeing up and down the dips and curves of her exposed chest, every detail it from the light dusting of freckles across her chest to the fullness of her breasts now out and in the open for her to see.

As the older woman loomed over Lena, she now placed her hands on her shoulders yet again, slowly pushing the woman back yet again, forcing her onto the empty desk behind her. "I told you that you didn't want to fight."

Despite the other woman's words, Lena found herself struggling slightly, still trying to get herself away and out of the situation forced upon her. Amélie grabbed at the younger woman's hands, holding her slender wrists together as she pinned them above the other's head. "Foolish," she muttered again, the manager now bending over the edge of the desk, soon grasping at a coil of rope that had been tied between the legs of the desk, the preparedness of her intentions becoming more and more apparent. Still holding tightly onto her wrists, Amélie pulled the rope taut to ensure there was no give before tying her hands together, fastening the bind under the desk so that the other woman's arms bent over the edge in a similar fashion.

The cold of the polished wood stung the exposed skin of Lena's back, the woman now squirming in her forced position as tugged at the ropes binding her to the surface; all hope being lost once the bind produced no give, no escape possible in sight. Her breathing had quickened over time, the adrenaline of the situation alighting her veins and nerves, producing the anxiety and stress that currently plagued the waitress in her given situation as her body alit.

Taking her time to move down, the clicking of her heels breaking the otherwise silent room with each slow step, the other woman allowing herself time to inspect the exposed, sprawled and controlled body of Lena, her eyes lethargically raking down and taking in every aspect. Lain down almost perfectly flat, the other woman's form remain on show to her, out for anyone to see, but remained for the manager's eyes only in the empty office. Amélie's narrowed eyes trailed down the taut skin of the younger woman, inspecting every dip and slant of her form; from the light indents of her ribs down to the dip of her protruding hip bones, the gentle curve disappearing below the her dark pants, blocked off from any further view.

The tips of her fingers made contact with the front button of Lena's pants, the button popping open almost instantly with little effort needed. In no time at all, the golden zipper of the dress slacks was undone, exposing the light blue of her underwear beneath. Despite the small, continuous struggles and pleas from the other party in attempt for her to stop, Amélie tucked her thumbs through the belt loops and her forefinger hooking its way into the waistband of her underwear as she pulled both items of clothing down; the squirming and movement of the other's hips only throwing her off slightly. The fabric collected around her ankles, only to be completely removed along with the dark dress shoes of her uniform, only for both items to be discarded on the floor as they fell.

Taking no time to hesitate, Amélie grabbed for one of Lena's leg, stretching it out on her the surface of the desk, bending over slightly to pull up a similarly wrapped and tied rope from one of the desk legs, looping it around the slim ankle before tying it tight; the action soon being copied with the last free limb. Once either limb was tied and knotted firmly to the opposite legs of the work station, the waitress found herself more revealed than she had been before, her lower half sprawled and stretched wide, leaving little to the imagination as her groin remain in full view; completely exposed.

Eyeing her handiwork, the manager couldn't help but smile a little, seeing the younger, smaller woman tied down perfectly, every part of her out in the open. She took a step up, the woman now bending over the desk at level with Lena's neck, going back to where she was before now that all distractions and any form of struggle was gone. As she placed a hand to caress the curve of her waist, the heated flesh of her stomach in distinct contrast of her chilled fingers, she brought her lips down once more to meet the skin of her neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along the way.

As the kisses began to dip down, trailing the skin connected between her neck and upper chest, Amélie ranked the flats of her teeth along the flesh once more, closing around a portion as she bit harsh enough to illicit a surprised and pained gasp from her victim below. The tip of her tongue ran over the irritated flesh in a feeble soothing attempt before it was retreated, the skin then sucked harshly until the older woman was happy with it enough, removing her lips from their position only to be greeted with the dark spot staining the other's body; the blood brought towards the surface of the other's skin as it pooled in rounded, raised spots just below the top layer. This continued a few more times, more and more spots being left; the dark red and purple marks decorating and trailing down Lena's body in the least innocent and playful way, the private and personal territory of the other's chest being claimed by the manager in question.

Her free hand ran its fingertips along each bruise, feeling the raised and irritated skin as she them over each one. Amélie's eyes locked onto Lena's face as she continued her actions, the pad of her thumb pressing into one of the larger bruises, watching as the other's face contorted with pain, lips parting in a cry of pain; each one music to her ears, making her only want more. The corner of the manager's lips turned up in a small smirk each time she pressed, only to be greeted with the noise of discontent from the other partner. It was only a few times more until she decided she had had enough, taking only a moment to open a desk drawer and remove a light grey knitted scarf, immediately shoving it into the other's mouth, muffling her cries turned screams.

With no audible verbal protest left, Amélie continued, her fingertips sliding and grabbing into the exposed flesh of the other woman, leaving harsh indents and light pink trails where her long fingernails had scratched her, marring the otherwise perfect skin. Trailing her hands from the other woman's hips up her torso and to her chest, the manager took hold of one of her breasts, kneading the flesh deftly as each motion ended with a harshness that left bits of pain and pleasure to shoot through the waitress, the mixture of sensations only adding to the lost confusion of the situation. The older woman took the rosy flesh of Lena's nipple between her thumb and forefinger, rolling the bud harshly as she continued her actions, making gains on her chest as the feat only continued to cloud the victim's mind. As she continued, her lips were brought down once more, planting light kisses to the marks previously left as if giving each one an apologetic message.

As her lips trailed up just between the line of her jaw and ear, Amélie's hands drifted down once again, her fingers running smooth lines along every dip and curve until they rounded over the curve of her hips, dipping their way in between her parted thighs. Lena's heart quickened as the manager's hand cupped the heated flesh of her middle, her fingertips running over the dampened folds as she felt along it in an almost playful manner.

Her touches only became increasingly playful, the tips of Amélie's fingers feeling only the outside as they caressed her lower lips, avoiding the small, hardened bud at the top that almost demanded her attention. With her mind clouded from the sensations and emotions of the given situation, the waitress found herself capable of finding her speech once more, muttering the manager's name, only to have the noise muffled from the woven fabric of the scarf gag; the meaning and understandability contorted.

Upon hearing this, Amélie had stopped with her advances, hand going still as she looked up, connecting her eyes with Lena's. "What is it?" she asked, removing her hand from its current position to remove the gag, ripping it out from between Lena's teeth as she looked at her silently. The younger woman began stumbling on her words, not expecting for the invading fabric to suddenly be removed, her mind still catching up to where they were. "What?" she asked again, growing impatient with the other's silent stumbling.

As Amélie watched Lena struggle to form a coherent message, she could feel the other's hips beginning to move, swiveling back and forth as they searched for friction once again, the previous pleasurable sensation now gone from the needy area. Words were not needed at that point; no direction from the other woman necessary as her body told the manager more than her flustered words could make out.

The older woman slipped her hand back in between Lena's legs, cupping the heated flesh of her crotch, allowing Lena the pressure she needed as she grinded against it. "How about I make you a deal?" She asked, her words pouring simply and smoothly from parted lips as her gaze left Lena's core and locked onto the browns of her eyes. "I'll allow you release if you do something for me later."

"What..What is it?" the younger woman stuttered out, only for no real answer to come.

"Do we have an agreement?"

Without any further questioning, Lena gave a small, feeble nod in agreement, the pleasurable pressure upon her core being too much to turn down.

With a simple press, Amélie slipped one finger into the wet heat of the waitress's opening, the slickness of the flesh proving to have no difficulty becoming acquainted with the foreign presence inside. For a better measure, a second finger joined the first, stretching the other's entrance slightly as the two digits slipped in fully, the younger woman's body enveloping them. Giving the other little to no time to adjust, Amélie began to thrust her fingers in and out, leaving and reentering the tight heat between Lena's thighs at a quick pace, entering a rhythm.

Taking almost no time at all, the pace began to pick up, the constant emptiness and re-stretching of her opening and insides beginning to cloud Lena's mind as quiet groans made their way past her parted lips, soft noises streaming out as the actions continued, only encouraging their continuation. A thumb was added to the mix, the soft, flat pad of it pressing onto the hardened nub of her clitoris. The older woman pushed it as she continued the thrusts, rubbing soft, tight circles into the pink bud of nerves.

As her eyes made their way down Lena's body yet again, Amélie's gaze rested upon the pink, rosy flesh between her thighs, watching as her fingers went in and out, disappearing into the younger woman below her. While her thrusts continued, she separated her fingers, stretching the other woman open further, watching as she squirmed from the sensation, quiet groans picking up in volume with every thrust.

In almost no time at all, Lena could feel her core tightening, a warm, pooling feeling growing, only demanding to be released. Her hips rocked forward, meeting Amélie's fingers at every thrust, pushing the tips deeper inside of her as she began to get closer and closer. The tight circles to the bud of nerves only picked up in pace, pressure being added as the speed increased.

When Lena had met her climax, her head threw itself back onto the desk as her body arched off of the surface; a loud, shaky sigh filling the air as her body had tensed up, only to have been released in an instant. Her legs apart from forced separation attempted to come together only to no avail; body soon falling limp back onto the desk as relief and exhaustion washed over her.

As the other's opening clenched tightly around her fingers, the entrance and walls pulsing around her to further signal release, Amélie withdrew her fingers, thick strands of clear fluid connecting itself between her and the other's moist opening. Upon parting them, the substance situated itself between her digits, creating a curtain of the other's sticky essence between her pointer and middle finger.

With the two fingers still parted, the manager wiped her hand off on Lena's inner thigh wordlessly, cleaning herself off of the other's fluids as they made sticky tracks along the supple flesh. She then placed her palms flat on the desk, hoisting herself onto the wooden surface as Amélie spread her legs, placing her bare knees on either side of the waitress's waist, the fabric of her pencil skirt riding up slightly. As she straddled the bare flesh of her torso, the manager reached down and placed an open palm on the side of Lena's face, caressing her cheek and jawline as her thumb traced over the curve, stopping its advancement on the side of her lip. "Now, make good on your promise." She muttered simply, her voice low, words dusted with lust.

The older woman situated herself higher up on the waitress below her, knees sitting on either side of her head as she lowered herself, the bare and naked flesh of her core resting only centimeters above her mouth. Lena did nothing, frozen in her place and from all action as she only stared at the other woman, unsure of what to do or how to approach it. Reaching down, Amélie long fingers weaved their way into the short mop of dark brown hair, grabbing a fistful as she forced the head up, mouth meeting her lower lips. "Now."

Meeting little to no resistance, the other complied; closing her eyes before doing as the other wished. She parted her lips, the pink of her tongue meeting the other's slick flesh on top of her, the taste and smell of the manager overpowering the younger woman's senses as she went to work, licking small circles into her folds. She switched from short, deliberate circles to long, flat strokes, to gentle sucks, each movement eliciting a rock of the other's hips, the older woman beginning to grind as the actions were continued.

In a matter of minutes, she had met her release, Amélie's eyes closing as she came without a word, body shaking silently as she came down from her high; a breath released slowly that she had been holding.

Just as quickly as she had finished, the manager removed herself from the desk, her heels clacking to the floor once more as she pulled the raised fabric of her dark pencil skirt back down. At every corner of her desk, she untied the binds that had held Lena in place, allowing the ropes to drop back to the ground as each limb became free, the woman regaining the movement that she had lost a while back.

Lena rolled her shoulders back as she brought her arms inwards towards herself, rubbing the soft skin of her wrists, a clear indent of where the ropes had been marred into it; stiffness brought on by the binds still with her.

"Get dressed." Amélie said plainly, planting herself into the leather of her office chair as she sat on the edge of it, fingers wrapping around the metal handle of one of the drawers before pulling out a file, setting it onto the empty space of desk in front of her; the manager getting back to the paperwork at hand as if nothing had happened.

She sat up on the hard surface of the desk, her hair still messy and spiked from their previous actions, her body still marred with all of its marks and indents. As she looked over the mess of her own body, Lena's eyes were distant, empty and emotionless as her mind exerted itself trying to wrap its way around what had happened, the situation almost beyond comprehension. Her feet made contact with the floor as she got off of the desk, the waitress bending down and over to grab the two small piles of clothes off of the floor only to slip them back on, covering up the hard evidence of what had just happened.

As Lena tucked her white shirt into the waistband of her dress pants, Amélie's gaze parted from the papers sprawled out in front of her, eyes stopping on the messed up locks of her dark brown hair; each part of it seeming to stick up in a different way. "Fix your hair." She said plainly, voice unamused, lacking any real emotion behind it. The younger woman pushed the palms of her hands down upon the raised bits, only for them to pop right back up slightly less messy. With a slight frown, the manager allowed her gaze to part from the disobeying locks, allowing it to run across the other's body to make sure at least everything else was in place. It only took a small mark peeking out just above the collar of Lena's shirt to make the corner of her lip turn up in a slight smirk.

Once her uniform had been put back into its proper place, Lena wasted no time to turn herself around, her back now facing the manager as she unlocked the door, closing it behind her as she made her way back out into the hallway. The rest of her shift continued that night, her mind elsewhere as her body ran on autopilot.

* * *

Author's (Alec) Notes: Happy New Year! JK, Thank god we aren't that late though. So finals are over and the Christmas event is here. I still need one more achievement for it. So I'm trying not to sound like a broken record here, but updates will get better and in honor of the holidays we will have some surprising to everyone who enjoys our fanfic. We love you all and we will update a lot sooner.

Side (Alec) Notes: We became friends with another author here. She has a story about Widowtracer as well and if you're interested you should check it out. 'Bound in the Spider's Web' by Pwib 'n Puff


	7. Chapter 7: Tu Me Fais Chantage

Disclaimer: Merry Christmas, I give you all the gift of truth. We don't own Overwatch. Ho Ho Ho.

Author's (Alec) Notes: Happy holidays. I hope you've all seen the new Overwatch comic. If not Something here might confuse you. Besides that I have a Christmas gift for you coming out tomorrow (12/25). Hope you all enjoy.

* * *

 **Chapter 7:** **Tu Me Fais Chantage**

The backdoor of the restaurant was Sombra's portal, a way into the sterile environment that she had known better than the back of her hand. Avoiding being seen was a breeze, escaping the eyes of the chefs setting up in the kitchen, preparing for the inevitable opening and dinner preparation approaching them. The programmer navigated with an ease that little had known exploring through the back systems of the restaurant, navigating her way straight to the manager's office, a small room tucked towards the back of the hallway. With a grip on the handle, she thrust the door open, exposing the woman in question sitting quietly at her desk, the noise of keys tapping filling the air. "Hey there."

Amélie's gaze parted from the computer screen as the door opened up, the manager in question peaking over the thin rims of her sleek reading glasses. Immediately upon recognition, her gaze lowered, eyes narrowing as she looked over the programmer. "You better have a good reason to be here after the stunt you pulled during the delivery." She spat, emotion kept hard and tight in her voice, lacing every word heavily with spite.

Sombra slipped in, shutting the door behind her with a click soft enough to forget that it had ever made noise in the first place. "I already said, my bad. Isn't that good enough?"

Her lips tightened, kept small and narrow in the middle of her, allowing no possible reaction to escape. The glasses were shed, placed neatly and folded next to the black plastic keyboard poised towards the middle of her work station. "No. Now what is it." She demanded, no sign of a question in sight.

The metal tips of the chair's legs opposite of the desk scratched against the floor as Sombra pulled it out from its position, lazily draping herself over the wood. "I found out about Gérard's killers and you greet me with a 'You better have a good reason'?" She said mocking the other women.

Amélie froze in her place, every instance of movement escaping her as her mind raced, thoughts elsewhere, away from the moment. Her eyes drifted, resting on the programmer in front of her, gaze empty as it rested on the soft angles of the other's face.

A slight snicker escaped the other's lips. "With that look, it's no wonder people think you killed him." anyone could see clearly the lack of amusement on the manager's face, expression only hardening, eyes narrowing and scowl sinking deeper into her lips as the smirk remained ever present on the programmer's face. "I only kid, of course."

Sombra sat up slightly in her seat, reaching forward to grab a paperweight from on top a small stack of files sitting towards the edge of the desk. She rolled the glass orb in the palm of her hand, peering into the dome, inspecting the bit of life trapped inside. The petals of the dark red rose circled delicately into the middle, each one curving over slightly as the young blossom exposed itself for all to see; the blood red of its petals staining and splotching, the veins dark enough to view. Surrounding the base remained the medium green leaves, holding and caressing the young flower frozen in time. The programmer's gaze parted, resting back on the manager as she placed the weight back from where it had come from; the only time she had done as such. "Why did you remove all of the cameras in here?"

"Tell me what you know." Amélie stated plainly, her eyes having never left the other woman.

She gave a slight shrug, any worry or possible threat the other presented given the situation at hand completely thrown away and forgotten. "I know you have a soundproof room with no cameras. People are starting to gossip."

"What are they saying?"

"That you're having meetings in here with rival gangs." The flat of her palm was raised slightly, fingers spread and poised, gesturing along with her words. "That you're planning something."

The other woman leaned back into the slightly cushioned leather of her desk chair. "And what do you think?"

Sombra sat up, leaning over onto the desk as she rested her elbow onto the hard surface, resting her head in the open palm of her hand to support it. "That you have secrets."

"Doesn't everyone?" The manager asked, words soft and tight in her throat.

A slight shrug was all she presented. "Si, but not everyone has secrets that I don't even know about." Their gazes connected, eyes locking with each other as she continued. "So how about an exchange of information. I'll tell you about Gérard, and you tell me what you're doing in here."

Amélie glanced away, eyes tearing from the other as she examined the screen set up beside her. "And maybe Gabriel should learn who is playing around with the orders."

"So we are at an impasse." A slight sigh, a hint of irritation lacing her words making its way out.

"No. You will tell me or I will tell Gabriel everything." Amélie calmly stated.

Sombra shook her head slightly. "Aye, you don't play around.." There was a pause, the programmer taking a second to step back, blanketing any frustration that began to grow accompanying the loss of information without any reward. "They have a score next week on the docks. Gabe is planning to get to the buyer before they do. They're sending in the men who killed Gérard." Eye contact was made yet again, her gaze narrowing onto the other's. "They don't know about you yet, so I would keep my head down if I were you."

Without any other word or thought, Amélie parted their gazes as she placed the small framed reading glasses back onto the bridge of her nose before directing her attention to the computer screen in front of her yet again, completely shutting the other out without so much of a thank you.

* * *

As four o'clock approached, the waitstaff began to file in, each one clocking in before assisting for the awaiting opening. Hana approached one of the touch screen computers in the side room, logging into her employee profile as she signed herself in for the day and officially started her shift. After logging back out, she turned around, ready to provide the assistance needed.

The second she took a step, she was immediately stopped, smacking hard into the person standing in front of her. She stumbled slightly, becoming flustered at her first mistake of the night. "Sorry, I.." The new hire began, catching herself as her gaze rested on the shorter man in front of her, taking a moment to really look at him.

His stature sat at a good few inches shorter than her, making the young waitress tall in a way she never was. Standing in contrast, his segmented hair stuck out in slight contrast from the formal clothing of his uniform, his long hair pulled back into a ponytail. Upon fully recognition, Hana let out a small giggle. "Lucio!" She then wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. "I didn't know you worked here too. Did you just get the job?"

Lucio smiled, returning the tight hug his old friend had given. "Nah, been here for a while." As the pulled away, he raised his sleeve covered arm slightly. "Broke this a while ago. Just got back today."

The young waitress couldn't help but let out a small gasp, hands raising up to her mouth, fingertips covering her lips. "Oh my god, what happened?"

"Skating, of course. How else?" He gave a slight laugh as he made his way over to one of the now vacant computers, copying as the waitress had done just a few moments ago.

Hana couldn't help but roll her eyes, almost exasperated by the other's problematic actions. "That's not the last time. You need to get off of those things."

He simply gave his head a shake, fingers tapping away at the touch screen as he clocked himself into the shared network. "No way. I'll die before I stop." With one more jab to the slow system, he logged out of his account once again before turning back to his friend. "So, how's the gaming going?"

"Diamond 1, almost challenger." She winked, accenting her accomplishments with a hint of sass.

He planted an open palm on her back, giving her a firm and solid pat. "That's great! I knew you could do it."

With the room now empty, save for the two friends and their idle chatter, it took little effort to notice that something was not right in her restaurant. The manager entered through the doorway, face falling as she eyed between the two goofing off during hours. "Do we have a problem here?" She asked, voice cold as ice, sending a chill through the room that made the two freeze.

They jumped a little, the sudden presence putting an immediate halt to the conversation at hand. Hana laughed nervously, eyes parting from the harsh gaze of the manager and resting on the floor. "No ma'am. Going right to work." And with a sudden, unwanted force, the two old friends had to separate their paths without another word, each one going an opposite way as the two aided the restaurant's preparation.

Hana found herself at the tables, stack of plates by her side as she placed them out in the according arrangements, trying her best to get them as perfectly as she had been originally shown. Upon placing her second to last bit of flatware in its appropriate spot, her hand slipped, the plate falling to the ground, bits of ceramics flying as it shattered in its place. Immediately her eyes darted around the room, taking in the sight of everyone staring over at the source of the loud, sudden noise; her own mistake. As her gaze landed on Amélie's, her heart sank, the manager's eyes burning right through her as the older woman's scowl was clear for all to see.

Lucio hurried over from halfway across the room, lending a helping hand in cleaning up the mess; assisting in removing the fragments from the hard floor. "Don't worry about it, Hana. It happens to everyone" He said as soon as the mess was completely removed, floor free from any possible reminder of her mistake.

The young waitress only gave a sight nod, her heart sitting heavy in her chest as a sense of shame washed over her, eyes fixed on the ground. Her old friend couldn't help but feel some ounce of guilt, him reaching out to give her arm a comforting pat; a silent sign of his support. Despite this, it didn't feel like enough.

She turned around in her place, the rubber flats of her shoes making little to no noise against the hard ground as she made her way back into the POS room. Tucking herself in past the view of the doorway, Hana leaned herself against the wall opposite of the touchscreens, gaze fixed on nothing as her mind ran. The previous situation played over and over in her head as the weight of it sank into her, creating her insides heavy and numb.

A sudden tap was felt on her shoulder, tearing the waitress from her current emotional crisis into an air of alarm and panic. Hana couldn't help but jump slightly, a scream bubbling up in her throat as she was taken by surprise once again. The sight of the programmer filled her vision, her palm creeping over the other's mouth as she silenced her. "Calm down, niña, it's just me."

"Stop sneaking up on me." She said, moving her head away from the other's hand, words spit out as she still tried to calm herself down.

"I'm not. You're just not looking around."

"Yeah.." Hana leaned back against the wall, not wanting to outright admit her fault.

Her scarred eyebrows knit together in the middle, the slightest bit of concern growing on her face "Something wrong, niña?"

The young waitress gave a slight huff, crossing her arms in front of her as she wrapped them around chest, hugging herself. "I don't think Amélie likes me. I'm afraid she's going to fire me." Her words were soft and slow, a reluctance laced heavily with each word as the fear of the possibility washed over her.

"Not your first accident, was it?" Sombra asked, joining Hana as stood next to the younger woman, shoulder dipping down and making contact with the wall behind them.

She shook her head slightly, the hold around her chest not letting up. "Far from it."

"You need to get some dirt."

Hana raised an eyebrow, silently questioning the other's life choices, and moreso, her insinuated influence on the younger girl.

Sombra continued "If you just get some dirt on Amélie, you can keep your job as long as you like."

"What do you have on her?" She asked, voice kept quiet as if discussing highly confidential information.

A smile began to creep across her face, part of her finding intrigue in Hana's interest. "Nothing yet, but If you want to help me get some I can protect you from her."

"How can I help?" Hana said in defeat.

The older woman gave a slight shrug."She made me take the cameras out of her office, so I think she is hiding something. If anything suspicious happens just record it on your phone."

Hana raised her eyebrow. "Really? That's it?" A small laugh broke the seriousness of the conversation, the younger woman shrugging off the other and her attempts of savior. "I think you have seen too many spy movies."

Without any contrary word, Sombra shoved aside any doubt the other had. "You in, niña?"

Hana released a small, slow breath of air, no other possibilities presenting themselves to her. "I guess."

"Good, now just remember to come to me. Don't go threatening her alone." The programer said trying to be as clear as possible.

"Why are you doing this?" The young waitress asked, gaze fixed on the other as

"She got on my bad side. Plus, it would be sad to see you leave so soon." Sombra stated simply before departing from the room, leaving the waitress alone with her thoughts yet again.

* * *

Lena made her way over to the second table of the night, one of the larger ones towards the middle of the room, a circular surface seating a group of all girls. Pulling out the small notepad from her half apron, she flipped it open to a free page. "Hello, I'm Lena and I'll be your waitress for the evening. Can I interest you in any wines tonight?"

Upon hearing the name, all eyes shot up from the menus lain out on the table and fixed onto the server in question. She did not register the stares until one of the women spoke up. "Tracer?"

Lena was taken aback for a moment, a smile growing as she looked around the table, greeted with the sight of old friends and teammates looking back at her. She felt almost speechless, words unable to form as she looked around. A nervous laugh made its way out when full realization was hit.

A redhead seated one person away from her broke the momentary silence. "Hey."

The waitress couldn't help but laugh a little more before replying. "Emily," she said, at a complete loss of belief for who was in front of her. "What are you guys doing here?"

One of the other teammates cut in, a blonde sitting across from the server. "On our way to Brazil. Thought we would have some fun in New York before meeting up with the rest of the team."

Lena's heart sank a little, her teammate's words carrying a reminder of what she did not want to think about. "That's next week, right? I wish you guys loads of luck."

Emily chimed in, the corner of her lips turned up into a smile. "Yeah, do you want to come? I'm sure everyone would love to see you."

The waitress pulled herself back from the distraction of the excitement of the situation, remembering where she was, and at this point, who she was. "Can't. Sorry. I'll be working." The grip on her notepad tightened slightly as she poised her pencil over the paper. "Speaking of which, can I get you anything?"

One by one, they placed their orders, each one having been distracted as well by the old teammate they had thought was long gone.

After all was settled and the bill was paid, the redhead spoke up yet again. "We should hang out before I have to go." She lifted her small purse up from off of the floor and fished through it, producing a small scrap of paper and a pencil, taking a moment to scribble something out. "Here's my number. How about you meet me outside during your next break." She left following after the rest of her team. As she began to stack the dirtied plates, the waitress paused as she glanced over the table, eyes fixed on slips of paper sticking out from underneath the check. She gingerly set the stack down, grabbing for one of the notes and unfolding it, gaze scanning over it.

'Good to see you again, Tracer. If you ever need anything, just call. Whenever it is. We are still family.'

All notes had messages of love and support, almost making her want to cry.

An hour passed by, signaling the start of her break. She parted through the thick door and to the back of the restaurant. The waitress made her way around to the front until she almost stopped in her place, anxiety of the situation growing as she approached the redhead standing idly on her phone, back leaning against the worn brick of the building. "Heya."

Upon hearing the other, Emily looked up from her phone, face alighting with a smile as she stashed the device into the pocket of her slim black dress. She pulled the other woman into a hug, holding her tight in a way that she thought she would never be able to do again. Tears began to creep into her field of vision, a fact that she tried to ignore the emotion overcoming her. "I've been so worried about you," she choked out.

Lena returned the hug full force, holding her teammate with a little too much history shared between them close to her. "I'm sorry. I guess I've just been busy."

"Lena," Emily began, pulling away as concern washed over her face. "It's been almost two years."

The waitress's eyes drifted to the ground, fact of the matter that she had been trying to escape for too long catching up to her as her old life and all of its features was presenting itself in front of her yet again. "I guess time really does fly."

Emily caressed the other's cheek, bringing her head and gaze back up and focused it on herself. She gave a small smile to the other as their gazes rested on each other. "You need to call Winston. If I was this worried, think about how he is."

Lena gave a small nod. "I know," she began, words coming out soft. "I owe the big guy a hug." Part of her found it amusing how every aspect of her life she had tried to leave behind was presenting itself to her again all at once, overwhelming every thought she had tried to suppress over the years.

"Yeah, you do. And you owe me an explanation and a date." A smirk pulled at the corner of her lips.

It took little to no time for Lena's cheeks to grow a dusting of light pink, staining her face with her embarrassment. "I'm free tomorrow," she offered.

Emily only smiled, giving the waitress's hands a small squeeze. "Good, now don't forget to call Winston."

Any sign of enjoyment drained from Lena in an instant, her blood almost running cold upon hearing his name again. "Right. I'll do it first thing tomorrow." Despite the overwhelming negative emotions bubbling in her subconscious, she pushed through, giving her best attempt to remain her usual joyous self everyone else had come to know and love.

"You better." She leaned in, pressing her soft lips to the middle of Lena's forehead, allowing them to linger for a second before pulling away. "I gotta get going. Keep in contact this time, okay?" And with a small wave, she turned away, soon disappearing amongst the group of pedestrians.

"Promise," Lena sighed, watching her walk away as the girl she had once known and loved left again. Now left alone with her thoughts, the ex-olympian looked down at her phone, deciding to take action now rather than later; the longing for him becoming too much.

She dipped back into the side entrance to the restaurant, leaning against the wall as she tapped out the number before placing the phone to her ear; the noise of ringing clearly heard. After a few seconds, the answering machine beeped, an automated voice greeting her instead.

'You have reached the voicemail for 0-2-0-7-9-4-6-0-3-5-8. Please leave a message at the beep'

As soon as the tone was heard, she began, finding slight difficulty in her words. "Hey there, Winston," she paused slightly, his name dragging out towards the end. "Just wanted to tell you that I'm safe." Her speech paused yet again as she continued, each word becoming harder and harder to say. Lena gave a slight chuckle at her own inability, attempting to push on and work through it. "I'm sorry it's been so long since I last contacted you." A slight sigh parted her speech once again. "Over a year now.." She placed a hand over her mouth, closing her eyes as she tried to hold back the tears that began prickling at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. Taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly through her nose, she removed the hand poised over her lips as she continued. "I." It was just too much. Her voice had begun to shake, its wavering clear in the slight instance of speech she had released. "I." She tried again, finding no easy way to continue. In a moment, she pulled the device from her ear, stopping the message prematurely as the screen faded to black, the call put to an end. Lena wrapped her arms around herself as the tears she had been trying to hold back began to silently fall. "Winston…"

* * *

Author's (Kate) Notes: Winston is not a gorilla in this. Sorry to disappoint. Also for an added note, the ranking Hana was mentioning is for League, not Overwatch. Sorry if there was any confusion.


	8. L'edition Noël (Christmas Special)

Disclaimer: I want to spread some light. This may come as a fright, but so this can't come back and bite. I'll have some foresight, and also because It's polite. The knowledge that I do not own Overwatch is our insight. I will tell you it's alright, and wish you a merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

Author's (Alec) Notes: This is a flashback. Not a chapter. Just a little present from Kate and I. Happy Holidays. We love you all.

* * *

 **L'edition Noël (Christmas Special)**

A young girl by the age of 13 sat on her bed, packing the last article of her clothing into the small backpack pulled up with her. Beneath her, the bed remain free of any sheets, the white, padded protector all that sat between her and the mattress; the sheets having been stripped away a long time ago. With her final jacket placed neatly away, Lena zipped up the small plastic zipper, securing all of her belongings safely inside. As she leaned back against the plain white wall behind, her gaze drifted from the small blue backpack and landing on the present lain next to it; an envelope of folded red and white striped wrapping paper complete with a neatly tied ribbon she had spent more than enough time perfecting.

Lena looked up from her spot, eyes resting on the other half of the shared bedroom. Across the way sat the same sight she had seen for a number of years now; the same white and blue color scheme and decorations she had come to know as her time. From the nightstand detailed with small red flowers, to the dark wood framework of the bed, the girl couldn't help but feel her spirits sink, chest becoming heavy and insides numb as she looked over the perfectly made and cleaned half.

With a small sigh, she slid over to the edge of the bed until the rubber soles of her shoes made contact with the thin carpet beneath them, the thin strap of her backpack slipping over her jacketed shoulder as she grabbed for the package, tucking it under the crook of her arm as she parted from the bedroom she had come to call hers. She made her way down the series of wooden steps, heading over to the kitchen with a reluctant heaviness in each step. Upon entering the space, she caught sight of the dark haired woman bent over the countertop, a small mountain of sandwiches piled up beside her on a crisp white plate.

"When will they be here?" Lena asked softly, voice squeaking out as her built up anxiety began to affect, her fingers tightening on the wrapping paper.

"Soon." Her foster mom said simply, her attention fixed on the lunch preparation lain out in front of her.

The corner of Lena's lips turned down into a pout as she padded over to the medium sized dinner table pushed towards the side wall and away from the kitchen, pulling out one of the chairs before slumping into it. "Why are they doing this today? Tomorrow is Christmas." With her each word, her voice began to deflate more and more, the reality and depression of the circumstance sinking into her as she stared at the foil of the wrapped gift she had placed on the surface before her.

The mother set the mustard covered knife onto the cutting board in front of her, making her way over to the small girl tucked into the corner of the table. With a small, sad smile, she ran the tips of her fingers along Lena's hair line, pushing a few strands back and behind the shell of her ear as she cupped the pale skin of her cheek, bringing her head up from its fixed downwards position, making their gazes meet in the middle. "I know you're going to miss him, but I know that you're going to love your new foster home."

"Have you met them?" She asked, voice small in her throat as her brown eyes remain fixed onto the older woman's.

"I have and they already love you." The corner of dark haired woman's lips remained turned up in a reassuring smile; a feature that had been almost fixed on her face since she had gotten to know her.

"How do you know?" Lena said with curiosity.

Leaning down slightly, the caretaker planted a soft kiss onto the top of her head for the last time. "Who couldn't love you?"

"Then why are you giving me away?" Lena pouted.

With only a softly spoken sentence, the woman could feel her heart crumpling up, shattering in her chest as the words so quietly stated jabbed at her insides. With a short sigh, she wrapped her arms around Lena, pulling the shorter girl in close as held her to her chest, giving her smaller frame a squeeze. "Don't say it like that.." After a moment, she let up on the embrace, allowing the brunette some room to breathe. "This was the best home I could put you in now that you're 13."

"And you couldn't wait until after Christmas?" Lena asked, words tight and close to her only accented with a somber gaze as she reached a hand out, fingertips resting on the foil wrapping paper of the present. "Can you give this to him tomorrow? I didn't get a chance to tell him that I won't be here."

A harsh, firm knock echoed through out the hallway and into the kitchen, pulling attention from the two of them away from the current events of the midafternoon. "That might be them," the caretaker began, pulling herself away from the table as she straightened out the front of her shirt, soon signaling Lena to get up from her spot. Reluctantly, the young girl got to her feet, shadowing behind the dark haired woman as she made her way into the hallway, soon pulling the heavy wooden door open.

In the doorway stood a large man, taking up most of the space. His stature remained tall and imposing, yet gentle and soft behind a pair of dark rimmed glasses. Black hair was brushed back from his forehead, thick sideburns leading to a thin beard filling his jawline, creeping up just above his chin. From beneath the rolled up sleeves of his dark brown sweater lain a thick covering of hair over his large arms.

Lena peaked out from behind doorway, her eyes almost instantly filling with tears upon seeing him. The bag and present were dropped from her grasp as she ran out, throwing herself into the larger man. "Winston!" She cried out, arms wrapping around him as she held on for dear life, shoving her face into the fabric of his shirt. "I thought I would never see you again.."

He returned the hug, picking the younger girl and holding her close to him. "Why is that?"

Lena looked up at him, gaze meeting his as her face fell once more. "I'm going to a new home." Her voice was slow and soft, reluctance lacing every word she had to speak. She looked down eyes fixed on the ground, not wanting to see his reaction. A nudge to the back of her arm caused her to glance back, the foster mom placing the fallen gift back into her palms, giving her smaller hands a small squeeze before their small exchange parted. Upon seeing the shiny wrapping paper once more, her heart sinking to the lowest it had been for that night; the final reminder of where she was and what would become of her after this night presenting itself once again. Lena's grip tightened on the package as she lifted it up, holding it in front of her with a firm grip, her eyes fixing back onto his. "I wanted to give you this on Christmas, but I guess that now will have to work."

Winston set her back down, allowing the rubber soles of her shoes to make contact with the floor once more before taking the gift. "I had one for you too, but -"

The younger girl cut him off in an instant, halting him without any hesitation. "It's okay. I'm just happy that I got to see you before I had to go." A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she spoke. "I hope you like your present."

The older man couldn't help but feel the wave of emotions rushing over him, a strong feeling of care hitting him. "Lena, I -"

"Please, just open it." She cut him off once more.

Winston gave a slight nod, turning his eyes back onto the foil wrapping of the red and white striped paper. After undoing the time consuming bow, he shoved the blunt tips of his large thumbs under the crease in the back, stripping away the covering and tearing the bottom away from what it was enveloping. Nestle inside was a dark grey scarf, knitted and woven in a simple yet practical way. Upon closer inspection, minute slip ups and mistakes could be seen; a true sign of how much time and effort the brunette had put into it.

He couldn't help but smile, slipping the material around his neck and placing the ends in a loose tie. "I love it. Thank you." He wrapped his arms around Lena, pulling her into tight hug. "Now I have something for you." The girl could only look at him, head tilted slightly in confusion as he cleared his throat. "I'm going to be your new foster parent."

Complete and utter disbelief washed over the brunette, her mind racing as her heart began to beat harder in her chest than it had for the entirety of that day. Her breathing became short and shallow, her gaze shifting between the man she had come to know as a friend and the woman who had cared for her for the past three years. "He is telling the truth, Lena." The woman spoke up, attempting to clear any confusion regarding the sudden release of information. "We've been planning this for a while, and all of the paperwork just went through."

Tears began to prick at the corner of the younger girl's eyes, spilling over with ease as a laugh bubbled up in her throat, her throwing herself onto Winston once again and wrapping her arms around him, holding him as tight as she could. He returned the hug once more, his own eyes stinging with the contagious emotion upon seeing her like this.

* * *

Lena sat on the carpeted floor of her new room, removing the last of her clothing from the small blue backpack and putting it into the chest of drawers pushed against the edge of her bed. With the little things she had now put away and folded neatly, she found her mind wandering. She got up from the stationary position she had been in, parting open the door before shutting it softly behind her, her socked feet making little noise on the wooden flooring as she padded her way down the stairs. A wafting smell of cooking meat pulling her away from the initial trek to Winston's office, the scent leading her off course and changing her path.

Making her way into the familiar kitchen, she pulled out one of the barstools, planting herself down onto it as she folded her arms over the countertop. "It smells great. What're you cooking?"

Winston looked up from the large pot on the stove, the corners of his lips turning up in a smile upon seeing her again already making herself at home. "It's cold out, so I thought that a stew would be nice."

"Can I help?" She offered, leaning up in her seat as she looked over the lip of the pot to get a better look at its contents. Lena couldn't help but smile, a comfort beginning to fill her. Everything felt right. With the wafting scent of cooking food, the kitchen was awake, alive with the smell of home. The warmth hugged her. Everything just felt so right, so perfect in a way she had not known before.

"Of course." He patted the empty space of dark countertop next to the stove. "How about you jump up here and help me start the roux?" Lena jumped down from her perch on the barstool only to make her way around the small island, hopping up onto the surface, her legs swinging idly as she waited. "I'm going to slowly add flour while you stir, okay?" He continued, handing over the wooden spoon he had been using.

"Aye aye!" She said, giving a small salute to top it all off.

Once the two had finished with the roux, all other ingredients were poured in and added to the pot; each one having been cut and cooked beforehand. A large metal lid was placed over the steaming concoction, a small timer being programmed next to the stove top. "You did a great job." He commented, giving the dark brown mop of her hair a slight ruffle. "This should be done in about an hour and a half."

"Okay, big guy, what do you want to do until then?"

Winston couldn't help but smile, reassurance in his decision situating itself as one of the best ones he had made in his life. "I was thinking we could make some dessert."

Lena jumped off of the counter, feet making contact with the floor once again. "Can we make some mince pie?" She asked, looking up at the taller man.

He was slightly taken aback by this, an assumption being made, but not one instantly expected. "Of course, may I ask why?"

"I wanted to leave one out for Santa." The shorter girl looked down, rocking on the balls of her feet as embarrassment washed over her.

The larger man gave off a small. "Of course." As he began to prepare the necessary ingredients, a quick realization hit him that one day he would have to tell her the truth about Santa. But today was not that day.

* * *

As the sun rose steadily, its rays peeking in through horizontal window stretched beside her bed, Lena awoke. Her eyes opened wide as she looked around the new room that she could proudly call her own; a comfort of her new reality washing over her. Throwing the heavy blankets off of her, she jumped out of bed, soon opening the door to her room as she took off down the hall, making her way over to Winston's room. Just as she raised her knuckles against the wood of his door, her knock halted just before making contact; an idea distracting her from the action. 'I should make him breakfast.'

She turned around on the ball of her foot, rushing down the steps and into the downstairs. Immediately once Lena had reached the bottom, a scream bubbled up in her throat as surprise came over her. Overnight, a tree had appeared in the living room, the strand of colorful lights illuminating the living room in a comfortable glow; an assortment of presents each ranging in size and wrappings lain out beneath it.

From upstairs, the sound of a door being thrown open could easily be heard, the loud bang echoing throughout the house as heavy footsteps made their way down the stairs, short and panicked breaths follow along with it. "Lena, what is-" In an instant, he had paused, a smile forming onto his face as relief overcoming him, the scream having been silently been explained. "Happy Christmas."

"Are all of these for me?" Lena asked, looking up at him in a state of disbelief. As soon as he had given a nod, she wrapped her arms around him as she had done many times before, giving him a tight hug before the brunette sat herself down onto the carpeted floor in front of the tree and amongst the presents, unsure of where to start.

Winston stepped over, grasping a few gifts before handing one to her, placing the next few by her legs. Inside each one were toys or clothes, each one he had known that she would love upon the years of knowing her; a stocking set up for her filled to the brim with candy and snacks. As soon as every box and package had been opened, each item being removed and a small mountain of wrapping paper being left its wake, the larger man handed her a white envelope. "One last thing."

Reaching forward and taking it, she gave him a smile, ripping open the folded bit of stationary and removing a single slip of paper. Unfolding it, she was greeted with a picture of a thin framed bicycle, its kickstand stuck down to the cement as it leaned over slightly onto the side of a white-walled house front; the black numbers of its address only just in view. It took her only a second to realize where exactly the picture had been taken, the girl jumping up from her place on the floor as she ran outside only to see what had been photographed.

It only took her a second to run back in, launching herself forward as she jumped towards Winston, her arms finding their way around him again as she held him close, her embrace instantly being returned. "Thank you so much.." She said softly, burying herself into him.

She didn't have words to explain how happy and grateful she was. Neither of them did. The smell of home and Christmas filled the air. The warm lights of the tree twinkled upon them as they sat there holding each other. A father and daughter spend their first Christmas together.


	9. Chapter 8: Ne Fais Confiance à Personne

Disclaimer: We fail at life, and therefore couldn't own Overwatch.

Author's (Kate) Notes: Looking over our story, I now regret not making the name of the restaurant 'La Griffe'. It would have matched everything else so perfectly. Oh well. It has been a very long time since we have published. Longer than we have wanted. And for some reason, people are still reading our stuff. Not that we're complaining. Thank you. Here is our latest chapter, published a number of months since the previous one. Enjoy.

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Ne Fais Confiance à Personne**

The sun parted through the light dusting of decorating the sky overhead, scattering its light onto the pavement below. From under the fabric of the overhang parting from the small cafe at the street corner. Emily sat at a metal table for two, looking from her space to the empty chair across from her. After twenty minutes of spacing out and browsing her phone as she waited for the other to show up, her fears started to get the better of her. As her uncertain thoughts started to get the better of her, a breath left her parted lips slowly as she looked down into her now cooled coffee, the heat of the cup against her hand being the only reminder of its once warm contents.

Not only a minute later, the sound of hard rubber hitting the cement of the sidewalk pulled her away from the fit of slight brooding, her eyes leaving the drink as the redhead looked over the small railing separating the outside seating area from the sidewalk. Her heart almost skipped a beat, catching heavily in her throat as the image of a brunette parting her way down the walkway filled her vision, each hurried step more than she could have imagined. Emily put her coffee down onto the woven metal of the table and got up, grabbing the other as soon as she was close enough and pulling her into a tight hug. "You can run!" was all she could say, each word highlighted with an amazement she thought she would never feel again.

It was this that forced the realization of how long it had been since the two had seen each other. How long it had been since Lena had faced the reality of her life instead of away in her private bubble of New York; away from everyone she had ever known and the life that she once had before the accident. Before her life was forced to have changed in a way that she didn't even recognize anymore. To say that her spirits didn't fall at that moment would be a lie, even to herself. Her gaze fell slightly as she began. "Yeah, I've been able to for about 8 months now. It's nothing like before, but-"

The words were halted once Emily spoke up, the corners of her light pink lips turned up in a small smile that the brunette couldn't see. "Just to know that you're fine is all I needed." After tightening the squeeze for a second, she let the other go as she looked onto her with almost a new outlook; her worries and fears settled as the fact of the matter was settled. No words could be said as the two old friends and ex-lovers looked onto each other once again after over a year of being apart.

It was Lena who finally spoke up, breaking the silence between the two as she glanced over to the table she had seen the other at, her gaze fixed on the plain white ceramic mug. "I think your coffee will get cold if you let it sit out like that." Emily didn't have the heart to tell her that it already was.

The two head back over to the table, the red head pulling out a metal chair for Lena as she then sat down; Emily taking her old spot again. It took little time for the two to strike up conversation. "So tell me, what happened to you?"

This left the other unsure, both of what to say and where to start. Her fingers found the holes in the the underside of the table's surface, the tips tracing around a few of them. "I just left," she began as she was almost forced to face the reality she had been escaping for so long. "I wasn't really thinking it through. I just wanted to get away." Whereas she had looked at the redhead with ease before, it became increasingly difficult as the weight of the situation forced itself down onto her; her gaze now drifting off to the side.

To see how much pain this brought onto the other was difficult to hold, dampening Emily's spirit as she held onto Lena's words. "What made you run? We were all there for you. You just.." Her voice trailed off as she paused, the emotions of the memory coming forth once again. "It was like you weren't there."

Hearing this brought nothing but the pain of remorse and almost justification as to what she had done as the they fought in her head until one feeling simply overwhelmed the other, each highlighting an aspect of her past. They built up until it was overflowing. "You weren't there either, you broke up with me." As she tried to justify her actions both with herself and the other, her voice came up as nothing but a mixture of sadness and anger.

Emily was a bit taken aback by the other as she tried to explain what couldn't be understood. "You weren't there. Every time we were together, it was like your mind was off in the void. How can you be with someone who isn't even there?"

Despite the pain that it conjured up, Lena knew that the other's words were true. An overwhelming sense of defeat washed over her as she looked down onto the table's surface, her seeing the cement underneath through the holes. "You're right." she began, words stopping short due to the length of time between now and when it had been relevant about two years ago. For all of it to come rushing back so quickly hurt in a way she did not want to experience again. "I'm sorry. I don't blame you for any of this. I guess I was just mad at myself." Despite all that she was feeling, Lena looked back up, her eyes connecting with Emily's as a new sense of courage came over her. "I ran because I was scared. You and Winston were there for me. I couldn't let you down, and when I wasn't getting better, I decided to leave." She gave the other a weak smile as her words came out. "It just started working. When I removed myself from all of that, I was able to heal. It took my mind off it."

The sense of hurt that Lena's words brought Emily was obvious and difficult to hide, hearing the true story that had been a mystery to her for all this time. It was apparent the pain that it brought her, listening to the difficult words of someone who she had cared about struggling in a way that couldn't be helped or dealt with, especially when the other had no idea of how to care for it. "You could have told us." She began, her words coming out slow and soft. "We would have given you the space you needed."

In an instant, Lena almost regretted saying what she had, the outcome of this conversation going in a way that she didn't like. "I'm sorry. I can't fix what I did. I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry." Her face turned soft and sad as she looked at the other, knowing full what she had done to her. "You're one of the last people I would ever want to hurt." She reached out her hand across the table and touched Emily's, lightly lacing their fingers as she smiled up to her.

Emily smiled back weakly, the slight welling of tears in her eyes becoming easier to push back as she lightly squeezed the other's fingers. "If you ever find the person you want to hurt, tell me. I'll want to shake their hand and congratulate them."

It was with those words that Lena's smile became real. "What's that supposed to mean? For all you know, there are dozens of people I wish harm to."

The other let out a snicker, not believing it for an instant. "I don't think you have the heart to even wish harm to another."

Lena thought about it for a second, running it over in her mind. "Does Voldemort count?"

At this, Emily gave her eyes a roll before leaning across the small metal table and planting a kiss on the other's cheek. "No."

"Darn, I really thought I had someone."

"I have to leave tonight. How about you show me your apartment so I can tell Winston with a straight face that you're ok." Emily said after taking a small sip of her cold coffee, fingers still wrapped around the ceramics as she looked back over to her phone.

At this, Lena gave the other a smile. "Alright, you're going to love my roomie."

* * *

The next day brought a new shift at work and another evening of taking orders, meeting new people, and bringing out meals. A few hours into following the flow of orders and customers, Lena was pulled away from her work as slender fingers wrapped around the middle of her bicep, halting her trek to the kitchen as the older, black haired woman called her to the office. Nearby, Hana watched as she took notice of what was happening. The usual stern expression of the French woman and mixed, almost anxious look of Lena as she spoke. She thought back to what Sombra had told her about her supposed short time here and how dirt was needed to survive any longer. Perhaps, she thought, this was exactly what she needed. But as the brunette followed the manager to the back room, she decided to brush it off, at least for now.

It took a few minutes for Hana to realize that she was still not back as the business of the restaurant and staff picked up. She caught sight of Lucio coming back from waiting a few tables before she intercepted him. "Hey Lucio, can you watch my tables for a moment? I need to go talk to Amélie."

"Yeah, no problem," he said, giving her a thumbs up.

She headed off down the little hallway and over to the wooden door of Amélie's office as she leaned in close, pressing her ear to the cold wood. Mumbling could be heard from a voice that was distinctly Lena's, and the tone of it made the younger girl begin to worry. From what she could hear, the waitress sounded like she was in trouble, the noise sounding panicked and fast. Pushing against the door a little, Hana parted it from its frame quietly, leaving a little sliver of open space. From here, she turned on her phone and opened up the app of her camera, slipped it through the crack as she began to record what was going on inside.

It was only until she heard the familiar clicking of high heels heading getting slowly louder as the manager started heading towards the door that she pulled her phone away, ending the recording. Quickly stashing it into her pocket, Hana walked swiftly down the hallway and into the kitchen, slipping through the side exit.

Once the metal door shut behind her and the chilled air of the outside washed over her, she and pulled out her phone once again and opening it up, taking no time to begin playing the video.

 _Inside of the office, Lena stood near the blank left wall, her chest stripped of its shirt and fully exposed, her arms wrapped firmly around the middle of her chest, keeping the only article of clothing, her white and black bra, to her chest. Standing right in front of her, Amélie placed her arms out in front of her and by Lena's hips, hands placed on the wall behind them, trapping the younger woman between it and her. "Amélie, wait." Lena spoke up, words shaky. "I'm done."_

" _What do you mean 'done'?" She asked, hand reaching up and wrapping itself firmly around the other's wrist, pulling it away from the other's chest in a harsh yank. Lena's face contorted with pain and an underlying sense of fear as she looked down, refusing to make eye contact with the manager._

" _I don't want this." She choked out._

" _We had a deal." With this, she yanked the other woman up, forcing her forward towards the other as her head came to Amélie's lowered level as their eyes forcibly met._

" _Please, I'll do anything. Just don't make me…"_

" _That's all I want from you." The manager said simply before slamming Lena into the wall behind her, pressing their lips together in a harsh force. It only lasted for a few seconds before Amélie's eyes glanced over to the office door, noticing it parted slightly open. She gave a sigh and looked at the vulnerable and exposed woman in front of her. "Stupid girl. Can't even close the door." As the black haired woman began walking towards it to shut it, the footage was cut short and shut off._

Hana's eyes widened as she watched the recorded scene unfolding in front of her, her lips parting as her mouth opened in almost shock. She closed out of it before shutting off her phone, placing it back into her pocket before leaning heavily against the wall behind her. Her hands traced up her opposite arms as they wrapped firmly around herself, holding herself close as the lids of her eyes softly closed. Thoughts raced through her mind as the close of her eyes became firm, the younger girl trying to rid herself of them as they popped up. Taking a deep breath in and letting it out quickly and harshly, she got upright before heading back in and attending to her work.

In a matter of moments, Lena finally left the confines of Amélie's office, overall appearance looking the same, save for her off and distant look. As she went back into the kitchen, the waitress found herself on autopilot as she took her work back up and attempted to catch up on her tables. From the main floor, Hana watched her, waiting a few moments before heading into the kitchen to try and check up on her. Mind other places, she pushed open the out door of the kitchen, only realizing when it heavily hit something hard. When it was too late, the noise of a person hitting the ground was heard on the other side.

Quickly going over to the other door, Hana parted through and into the kitchen, she sight of Lena sitting flat on the hard floor, legs scrunched up around her, hands woven into her messed up brown hair as her face contorted with pain. Going down to the waitress's level, the younger woman leaned forward to see what was wrong, a sense of fault hitting her as hard as the door had hit Lena. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

Lena rubbed a sensitive spot on her head, feeling the place that would no doubt be forming a bump soon. "Yeah, I'll be fine." She said, pushing off the other's worry with a slightly pained smile.

Hana's mind began to race once again, leaving her completely alone and unsure of what to do from that point on. Almost as if on cue, the familiar clicking of high heels was heard as Amélie entered the kitchen, her stern look falling onto the two women on the floor, her eyes narrowing into a scowl. "What happened?"

From behind the metal counter, the chef glanced up from his work. His dark brown eyes looked over the scene in front of him from under his thin eyebrows. Pulled into a tight pony tail, his dark hair, slightly graying at the temples and sides, went down along the underside of his jaw, ending in a well kept and slightly pointed extended goatee. "Hana ran into the wrong door and hit Lena." He said just as he went back to the task at hand, finding no need to waste more time than necessary.

Amélie's eyes darted to the younger waitress. "Go back to your tables." She ordered, voice tight and harsh in her throat as she spoke down to the other.

It took almost no time at all for Hana to quickly get up and run out of the kitchen.

Despite the younger waitress being gone, the manager's words were still harsh, face accented with frustration as she looked towards the kitchen staff. "Will someone get her some ice now?" The chef who had spoken earlier was the one to hand it to her, placing a washcloth in her grasp wrapped around a small bag filled with ice cubes. "Thank you, Hanzo." She said, taking the ice as she knelt down to Lena's level, putting it to her head. "Can you get up?" With this, Lena gave a slight nod, not exactly wanting to meet the other's gaze. "Good. Get up slowly." Helping the waitress up, Amélie led her over to a chair placed in the corner of the kitchen, allowing the younger woman to sit down. "I want you to stay here until you feel better." She instructed, hands leaving the brunette once she was firm in the seat.

At this, Lena gave a small, fake smile. "I'm alright. I swear."

It was when she started getting up again that Amélie placed her hands on her shoulders once more, halting her movements. "Rest. I don't need you out here like this." While her voice was still firm in its intentions, there was an underlining of almost worry that wasn't there before. "I will send someone in to check up on you later." And to this, Lena slightly agreed.

Ten minutes later, Angela walked over to the corner where the brunette had been sitting, ice still pressed to the aching spot on her head. "How are you feeling?"

She allowed the rag to drop, holding it in her lap as she looked up at the blonde. "I'm fine now. I got the best doctor watching over me."

At that, Angela laughed a little. "You're too nice." She said, raising her hand up as she placed it onto Lena's head and into her hair, checking for any bumps or bruises. "You seem like you're doing fine. Are you feeling okay?"

"I feel great, don't worry about me." Despite the outward presentation, it was obvious that the other's words didn't match her true intentions. They seemed forced, as though lost and clouded with a mixed emotion.

This brought concern from one woman to the other as Angela looked over Lena. "Something you're not telling me?" She asked.

The brunette was quick to brush away any worry. "Angela, I'm fine. I promise."

She gave out a sigh, but decided to take the other's word at value. "Okay." She said, dropping it on sight. "But let me drive you home tonight. I don't like you riding your bike so late at night."

"Deal." Lena said, setting the ice aside as she got up, both then heading back to work.

A few hours later, the two women had finished up their shift, soon clocking out before putting Lena's bike into back of Angela's car. As the key was turned into the ignition, they began heading back to Lena's apartment. As they passed through the streets, the overhead lamps shed their light onto the passenger, lighting up the side of her face; gaze far off as she stared into space. Even from the short glances the blonde made, it was obvious that Lena's mind was somewhere else. "Are you alright?" She asked, cutting through the soft music pouring through the radio.

The other jumped slightly, a bit startled as the other's words came so suddenly. "Yeah.." She said, word trailing off at the end in an almost unsure manor.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Lena thought to herself for a moment, turning the idea over in her mind a time or two before coming to the conclusion, sighing before beginning. "What do you think of Amélie?"

Not having expected for their conversation to go this route, Angela was taken aback a little. "Amélie? I guess she is alright. A little too serious, but she is fine."

The brunette looked down a little, gaze fixing itself on the hard plastic of the car's glove box.

"Lena, do you have a crush on Amélie?" Angela said, a smile accenting her face and lining her words. "I guess that hit to the head was more than I thought." she continued with a tease.

This only made the other's lids sink further down her eyes as the negative emotions got the better of her. "No, I just.." She began, pausing as she became unsure of herself and what to do from that point on. "Has she ever hurt someone?" Her voice began to waver, becoming quieter and more unsure with every word.

Angela only looked over at the other in short glances, confusion knitting her eyebrows slightly together. "Not that I know of. Lena, what is wrong?" Much to her dismay, the brunette continued to look down through her half-lidded eyes, her hands now clenching into fists as her body began to shake. "Lena?" She asked once again, worry beginning to overtake her.

It took a few moments for Lena to speak up. "She's been." She paused for a moment, thinking of what to say and how to exactly say it. When she did, her voice was quiet and to herself. "Touching me."

"Oh, Lena…" She said with great and deep sympathy, instant regret for her words hitting her as the urge to pull off to the side of the road and pull the other close became more and more intense. Despite only being a few streets away, the apartment had never been so far away as the weight of what had been said seemed to slow down the time in the car, leaving the two trapped with their own thoughts for far longer than either would have wanted at that point.

Angela pulled into the apartment's parking lot, turning off the car before reaching over, placing a hand on Lena's shoulder lightly. From the dim lights outside, tears could be seen that began to form in Lena's eyes. As she pulled the other into a hold, Angela spoke in a soft voice. "Let's get up to your room. You can tell me more there if you want."

With a slight nod, Angela let go as the two head up to the apartment. As the door opened, the other roommate could be seen on the sofa, the mixed lights from the TV washing over her as she sat. Looking out, Pharah got up once seeing the blonde in the doorway. "Angela, hi."

As her gaze rested on on the other for just a moment before Angela raised a finger. "Not now, sweetie." She said, leaving the other with a confused look, completely unsure of what was going on as Angela led Lena to her room, leaving Pharah with no other words.

Once the door had been pulled closed, Angela sat Lena down onto the comforter of the bed and pulled up the desk chair next to her before sitting down to face the brunette. "If you can, I'm here for you to tell me whatever."

"I don't think there is much more to say." The words leaving her lips were soft and towards the back of her throat, each one proving to be difficult to make out.

A hand was placed on Lena's shoulder, the pad of her thumb rubbing into it softly. "I understand," She began, "If you want, you can try to talk to Gabriel about Amélie."

"Do you think he will care?" Lena asked, glancing up at the other. She had heard of Gabriel as being the owner of the restaurant, but never before had she really seen him in person.

The corners of Angela's lips turned up in a small, reassuring smile. "Of course. I can go with you, if you want."

She waved the notion and the other's worry off slightly. "I can do it myself.."

Angela gave her a slight nod, small smile not leaving her lips as the hand on her shoulder gave it a slight squeeze. "How about for now, you just rest up?" She asked, pulling the corner of Lena's sheets back as the other got up slightly before laying down on the soft sheets underneath, obviously approving of this suggestion. "I can make you something if you're hungry."

Lena simply turned over on the mattress, facing the wall and leaving her back to face Angela. "I'm fine. I'm just going to bed."

The blonde simply nodded and pulled up the comforter, allowing it to cover the body of the other woman still in her work clothes, covering her in a layer of plush blanket. "Alright then. Sleep well."

Getting up from her chair and sliding it back to its place at Lena's desk, Angela was about to open the door when Lena spoke up again, a small "Thank you," parting from the blanket.

A small, sad smile was all that could show as she looked over at the brunette, seeing what true effect the manager's actions had on the younger girl in front of her. "This will all be over soon." Was all she could say as a last measure of reassurement.

Pushing open the door and parting the room, the sight of Pharah standing in the hallway had come to her closer than she would have wanted. She looked onto the other with an expression of sadness and disappointment, easily disapproving of what she had done. Remaining quiet, she pushed Pharah aside as she closed the door, wanting to leave Lena with a lasting notion of privacy; not wanting her to know that the secrecy of their conversation had been let out once it was known that Pharah had been listening in.

* * *

Riding through the city streets the next day brought a new air. With the wind passing by, Lena passed alongside cars, the rising sun of the morning creating the brunette's spirits bright and sunny along with it as Angela's words coursed through her, a new sense of hope coming forth. As she came around the side of the restaurant, she hopped off her bike, letting it rest against the wall as she head towards the back.

Rounding the corner, she caught the sight of a man pulling a ring of keys attached to his belt from a retractable ring, the small cable connecting the collection as he put a gold one into the back lock, and twisting it open. Letting it go from the lock, it snapped back to its original position, drawing back under his grey hoodie, opening up the back kitchen despite the restaurant opening at 5 pm. As she watched the man from afar, Lena began to prepare herself for the talk.

Taking a deep breath, she came decided announce herself, making herself noticed in the given back lot. "Hi'ya, are you Gabriel Reyes?" She asked, looking at the man who now turned to face her, his hand pulling away from the door handle that he had been reaching for not a moment ago. To say that the scars decorating his face didn't add a level of intimidation would be outright lying. Having only met him once before, he need to make sure was necessary.

"Who's asking?" His eyes scanned over the woman before recognition hit him. Something about the hair made it hard to forget who she was.

"I'm Lena Oxton. I work at your restaurant, Talon." She said, nodding over to the building beside them.

Arms crossed over his chest, Gabriel simply nodded as the other spoke, the look on his face becoming less patient as he silently encouraged her to get to her point.

"Right.." she said quietly, heart becoming heavy and unsure in her chest. "It's about your manager, Amélie."

At this, he rolled his dark eyes, finding no amusement in being bothered with the woman's personal problems, and instead shrugging away any possibility of him caring or worrying. "If you have an issue with her, then you can talk it out with her."

Lena's heart sunk impossibly deeper as her spirits went with it. It was at this point that she could barely manage to speak, let alone continue her point. "I can't.." She began, looking down onto the dirty asphalt, the unsureness continuing as she doubted herself even more. "She's been..Touching.." Her sentence was cut short as emotion built up, leaving the brunette unable to say any more.

It was with this that Gabriel had given his full attention, understanding exactly what was going on without a full explanation from the waitress. "You don't have to say anymore. I get it." He thought about it for a minute, shifting his weight from one foot to the other before continuing. "If you can do me a favor and run a package over to someone, I can go to Amélie now to take care of this once and for all."

Relief washed over her as Lena almost perked up, exhibiting the first bit of actual happiness since last night. "Of course. Thank you so much." It was at this point that it was over. She just knew it. "So, where's the package?"

Resting next to the restaurant's back door was a pile of what could best be described as stuff, standing tall and each part of it wrapped or boxed up to conceal what was inside. From the top, he grabbed a package. It wasn't too big or heavy; just the right size to be carried for an extended amount of time. "They're just a mile or so down this street at the docks. You can't miss them. Just say that I sent you there."

Lena took it into her outstretched hands, putting it under one arm and giving him a nod. "You got it, sir." she said with a smile.

"It will probably be faster if you just run it down." He said before getting back to work.

Taking no time at all, the brunette ran off, following the given directions, each lengthy and rushed step led her closer and closer until she found herself at the docks.

For the most part, the space was open and empty, leaving area mostly free of people, save for a group of men. Being some of the only people there, Lena knew that they must be them, leading her to go up and approach them with not a worry in the world. "Hi'ya. Reyes sent me here to give you this." With an air of innocents, she simply handed it over.

The man she had assumed was the leader of the group took the package from her and tore it open. Peering inside, it took him all of a second to close it back up, a scowl forming on his face. "Tell Gabriel we already made a deal." He handed the package over to a man next to him who had appeared from behind the van nearby. He then looked inside as slowly, other men appeared next to him, all of which were holding guns.

The scowl on the leader's face formed deeper, the apparent anger and annoyance coming through more so than it had before. "Reyes really thinks he still runs this town, doesn't he?" He asked to no one in particular before looking back over at the delivery girl who was simply frozen in place, finding no ability to move or even think of what to say. "You really expect me to take this?" As he spoke, his men raised their guns, all of which landed on Lena. "I guess we will be sending Gabriel back your head to show him who is really running things."

Adrenaline kicked in as Lena turned on her heels, legs taking her faster than they ever had before. As they hit hard against the pavement, she got a matter of spaces away before the shots rang out, all but one of them missing. In an instant, a white hot heat raced through her upper arm, a pained scream bubbling out of her throat as she grasped for it, the sleeve of her shirt becoming more and more stained with red as her hand became coated with hot blood pouring from the new wound. Throwing herself behind a crate nearby, Lena gritted her teeth hard as her breath came out in harsh ins and outs. Attempting to calm herself down, she braced herself against the cold metal and attempted to calm her breaths, each second of existence becoming a misery as the pain did not seem to go away.

Outside, vans began pulling up across the docks, more shots cut through the air as what could be assumed as a gun fight began. Each bullet being fired brought more anxiety, and with more anxiety, the less the brunette saw her making it out of the situation alive.

Just as her last doubts left her, a van had pulled up next to the crate, its doors being thrown open as a voice called out to her. "Lena, get in." With her vision going blurry from the pain and overall blood loss, she couldn't see who it was. Almost blindly, she tried crawling towards it, but was then stopped once more. One of the leader's men had found her, and once again, she found herself staring down the barrel of a gun pointed right at her head. His face broke out in a smile staring down at her and soon enough, a gunshot echoed through the space once again.

But she didn't feel the same pain she had before. Actually, she had felt perfectly fine minus the searing pain still embedding itself in her bicep. Looking up, Lena saw the clearly marked exit wound of a bullet hole through his head, almost perfectly in the middle of his forehead. Dropping his gun, the man had collapsed on top of her. From inside the van, a few people had come out as two of them grabbed for her, pulling her in. A woman's voice was heard through the fuzziness of her blood loss. "Get back to the warehouse. She needs help. Now." And with that, the motor kicked up as they drove off.

* * *

Author's (Alec) Notes: Writing can be lonely, if anyone reading this what to tell us how we are doing in the reviews we would love to hear it. If you have any question or just want to say hi you can PM us anytime, we love you guys and will love to hear from you.

Author's (Alec) Notes 2: We wrote this a while ago and yeah, we finished this today. We have mapped out the next 5-6 chapters and do plan to write more. We apologies for our weird schedule and thank everyone who read it. Because this is a cliff hanger will we be putting up the next chapter within 5 days.


	10. Chapter 9 - Je désire la Vérité

Disclaimer: We don't own OW. This fact is sad for two reasons; one because I do not have the resources and ability to do so, and the other because I have to state it.

Author's (Alec) Notes: As promised, chapter 9. Three notes I want to make. If you play overwatch on PC, pm us and we can give you our names. We love play with new people. Next thank you everyone, you have been so kind and understanding despite our bad posting schedule. We honestly appreciate you. And last, this chapter is graphic. I will not spoil how or why, but there is violence in this fanfic. I hope that everyone can hold on and continue reading.

* * *

 **Chapter 9 -** **Je désire la Vérité**

Flashback: Amélie

Rays of light made their way through the expansive wall of glass, alighting the interior in a warm glow that was not normally there. Two pale, empty chairs sat bathing in this golden light, facing the floor to ceiling window, giving whoever sat upon it a view of the nearby docks and stretch of water below, all complete with the view of the nearby cityscape. A sitting area sat to the side of this, two couches on top of a white rug, a dark brown ottoman separating them. Beside this, a smattering of bookshelves stood dark and tall, an array of titles nicely placed throughout the shelves, most not having been touched for a while. The rest of the space remain somewhat plain: a mixture of white walls, pale furniture, and few decorations; save for a few pictures taking residence on the side table by the small, glass enclosed fireplace nearby.

To the side of the well stocked and up-to-date kitchen and sitting area sat a long white table with three of the four chairs pushed in and unused. Across the surface lay scattered binders and series of loose papers, all of which were in the process of being opened and looked at. Occasionally, a mug would be lifted, the woman taking a sip of its dark contents before setting it back down with a soft clink, her eyes never leaving the current paper she was looking over. Her long, dark hair was tied and pulled back, its long ponytail trailing down the back of the chair to the middle of her back. Around her neck twisted a muted silk scarf, accenting her throat with the gradient of greys that almost perfectly matched the slate cotton twill blazer over her outfit, the front panel left open and unbuttoned. A long silver necklace resting in the middle of her chest, its twisting pendant sitting as the focal point of her black blouse underneath matching her form fitting dress pants.

The mug touched her painted lips once again when a harsh knock was heard on the door, cutting it short and tearing her eyes away from the text in hand. Setting it down, she got up from the chair, heels lightly clicking on the wooden flooring as she parted across the apartment before peering through the gold ring of the peephole. The familiar sight of a scarred face and grey hoodie presented itself to her. Taking little time to pull it open, Amélie simply stared at the man, her perfectly shaped eyebrow raised at not only him, but his presence. "How did the meeting go?" She asked as she stepped aside, allowing him into the space, soon shutting the door behind him.

Standing halfway between the kitchen and front door, Gabriel stood nearby her, his arms crossed and face held continuously firm. "We lost the docks." He began, his usual gruff voice cutting through the previous silence of the still space. "It's fine. We'll get it back. But that's not what I came here for." A short sigh parted his lips, arms slipping from their previous stance and resting at his sides. "Lena came to me."

The mentioning of the familiar name brought interest, clear intrigue from the dark haired woman. "Oh?" She asked, "and what did she want?"

"She told me what you've been doing." His amusement clearly not there.

A surge of annoyance shot through her, one that was not easily pushed down and hidden. "And?"

"I took care of this time, but next time-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Amélie stopped him in his tracks, cutting him off halfway. "What did you do?" A sense of urgency, almost worry laced her words despite her narrowed eyes locked on him.

Despite mild surprise coming from being stopped short, Gabriel's voice and overall appearance remained generally uninterested. "I sent her to the docks with a message. They most likely will kill her on sight just to spite me." His came by way of being matter-of-factly, an almost sick certainty resting on the message.

An anger began bubbling up inside the dark haired woman, one that left the tips of her painted fingernails embedded into the soft pale skin of her palm, leaving harsh and deep red marks as she balled her fists. "Vas t'en faire foutre." She spat, words tipped with poison as she paced past the man in front of her, a new sense of urgency in her movements as she grabbed for a nearby duffle bag propped against the wooden staircase. Slinging it over her back, her steps became quicker and quicker in nature as she ran out of the apartment, letting the door slam shut behind her as Gabriel was left alone inside, almost lost but not surprised with what happened.

It took her little time to get to her car parked below, quickly unlocking it before throwing the duffle bag into the leather of the passenger's seat before sliding in herself. Jamming the key into the ignition, she quickly drove off. As she parted from the apartment building and into the street, Amélie pulled out her phone, pressing a few buttons before placing it between her ear and shoulder. A few rings were heard, but were soon cut short by way of a familiar, questioning, accented voice. "Send everyone available to the docks, the deal has gone south." Despite the returned chatter and excuses from the other side, she simply continued the demand. "I don't care what he said, do it now." Before any more could be said, the call was quickly dropped and hung up as she threw the phone into the seat next to her, the docks not too far away.

The car was parked nearby in a way that could best be described as haphazardly as she quickly got out of it, urgency fueling her steps. She began climbing a fire escape ladder of an unused nearby building, her duffle bag sling over her shoulder, its contents resting across her back. Gunfire cut through the air as the noise of struggle and the activation and halting of cars could be heard below. This only quickened her pace as thoughts and further worries began to cloud her mind. Once on top, Amélie set her bag down onto its concrete roof, pulling open the black zipper and exposing its contents to the light. Pulling out the SR-25 sniper rifle, her grasp on it was firm as the cold metal sank into her skin. Laying down with haste, it took her little time to gaze through its scope, pressing the ring to her heated face as the sight of pale green and black met her. Examining the scene below, she could see the struggles below on an up close and personal level, watching as the commotion unfolded in front of her of men scrambling into action and more parting from the doors of nearby vans. Mild frustration bubbled up inside as part of the sniper's view was taken due to the placing of metal crates around the area. But only aspect of this situation came up positive: no body found.

In a quick scan, Amélie finally found what she had been looking for: the familiar mop of brown hair. Slumped up against one of the closer crates, Lena was seen almost folded up on herself, her hand placed firmly around her opposite upper arm. In front of her, a man clearly recognized as one of the enemies stood, gun pointed at the waitress's. Without a moment of hesitation, the sniper pulled the trigger, applying no more pressure than was necessary as she hooked her freshly painted finger around the steel, the bullet launching itself clear through the air and striking the attacker perfectly in the middle of his forehead. Exactly where the crosshairs had landed. His body soon fell forward, collapsing onto the brunette below as it went limp, all life draining from it in an instant. Just as her shot had connected, two people came from the van stopped closest to Lena. One of the people she recognized, a blonde woman; Angela. They took little time to remove the fallen body from on top of her, soon pulling the woman inside and into safety.

With a sigh of relief, Amélie removed herself from the scope, her face slightly more heated than it had been before. As she rolled herself back and flat onto the roof, the bout of worry that had filled her not even moments ago slowly escaped her, as her gaze connected with the sky above. Overhead, planes passed, leaving their chemtrails to cross through the smattering of clouds above. She watched one pass overhead as the crack of gunfire continued raining down below.

* * *

Slowly, Lena's eyes parted, allowing the light of the outside world in, though images remained blurry as she awoke. Beneath, a thin mattress supported her, plain white sheets wrapped around her in a way that provided little comfort and heat in the sterile environment. Attempting to blink away the haze, the brunette began to look around, eyes landing on bags supported by thin, metal rails, suspended and leading to thin tubing: one filled clearly filled with blood, and another with a clear fluid. In the background, blipping could be heard from a monitor, each passing second recording on screen the rise and fall of her steady heartbeat. A woman parted through the doorway as she slowly came into view. Although her features remained blurry, her tied back blonde hair stood as a telltale sign. "Angela?" Lena said, voice still groggy and dazed with an added layer of confusion. What would Angela be doing here?

Despite the questioning, the blonde haired woman closed in, bringing with her an air of warmth that was not previously there. The corners of her lips turned up in a sweet smile as her gaze shifted from the equipment to Lena. "How are you feeling?" She asked, gingerly placing her hand on the brunette's shoulder while her fingers brushed gently around the wrapped upper area.

"What's going on?" Lena asked, growing more aware of her surroundings as it came more clearly into view.

This elicited a frown from the blonde as she withdrew her touch, eyebrows knit gently with concern. "Do you not remember?"

Lena began to slowly sit up a little, giving herself a better view of the blonde. With her face breaking out into a cringe from the pain shooting up her arm with each subtle movement, it may have not been the best of ideas on her part. "I remember getting shot if that's what you mean. I meant, what's going on here? What happened?"

Angela's hand found itself on the brunette's shoulder once more, giving it a small, but comfortably firm massage with her fingertips and palm before sliding down a little to her upper arm. Unwrapping the bandages from the site, the wound was exposed to the air for just a moment, drawing a hiss of pain between clenched teeth from the patient. "You seem to be healing up fine." The blonde said, giving her approval of the progression before expertly rewrapping.

As Angela went over the task at hand, the brunette's eyes connected with the bandages as she watched from faraway, finding herself more lost in her thoughts than anything else. The connection between the blonde and the new, never before seen side of Talon was not making any sense. Having been with her since day one, this new aspect of Angela did not make any understandable connection to what she had grown to know and love. "You sent me to Gabriel." Lena began, voice quiet as each word stuck towards the back of her throat, finding not only difficulty getting them out, but also struggle with reasoning the fact that she could have planned for this. "Did you know..?"

Angela's face only fell further, her eyes half-lidded as their gaze almost refused to part from her deft hands reworking the bandages around the pale skin of the waitress's upper arm. "No," she said, firmly as to remove all beginning of suspicion. "I wouldn't have if I had known." A slow, steady sigh escaped from the small part between her pale pink lips. "This is all my fault. I'm sorry."

Lena's light brown eyes scanned the blonde's face, gaze resting on her lips before landing on her eyes, searching for any sign of confliction between words and intentions. "What was in the package I delivered?" She asked, words beginning to grow stronger and hold more ground.

"I don't know, I overheard them talk about a deal on the docks. We all got a call to go there. I came along in case anyone was injured."

To say that the pain developing in her chest was nothing would be an outright lie. Having such a close relationship to the other waitress in the past, Lena couldn't help but feel completely lost in the situation, fully open and exposed to the other as a new side presented itself to her. "And you're one of them?" The confliction between inward and outward emotions was clear as the hurt she felt was portrayed as minimal.

This notion was quickly cut short. "No." A pause hit the air, the blonde's fingers leaving the bandages now that the rewrapping had been completed to an acceptable standard. "I mean, yes. In a way. I needed money for school."

"And so you just thought, 'Hey, I think I'll go join a gang?" The other's words came out laced with an added layer of disbelief, eyebrows raised as she stopped her in her tracks.

"It's not like that." Angela began, voice slightly raising as it was clear that her point had not understood. "I was working at Talon, just like you, and my loans and debt were adding up quickly. Gabriel must have found out and offered me this." A sigh elicited a pause in her story, her face further falling as she looked over the arm she had so expertly wrapped. "I didn't know who I was patching up until later, when it was too late… I didn't want the same for you, Lena. I'm sorry I got you into this."

Reaching over with her unhurt arm, Lena grasped for the other's freehand, lacing their fingers together as she squeezed it lightly. "I don't blame you."

Squeezing back, Angela returned a small somber smile as she looked over the other woman. "We will see if you feel the same after the pain medicine wears off." Leaning slightly forward, she reached up with her unoccupied hand, pushing back a section of dark brown hair that had threatened to slip into the other's face.

* * *

Despite the heavy darkness that surrounded her and the plush warmth from her hot pink comforter, Hana found herself spending another night sleepless. Staring up at the ceiling dotted with glowing plastic stars, the need to rest hit her heavily. It could, however, not be satisfied properly; a pattern that had plagued her for a few nights. As she lay amongst her sheets and blankets, her mind began to wander once again.

In the dark of the night, her thoughts began to get the best of her, circling around her as she tried to fight them all. But her struggles were to no avail. Once again, the images presented themselves to her as the dark haired girl was forced to relive the viewing of the video over and over again. As she tried to push them back and away into her unconscious, the filtering gave way, playback coming to her in full force. All she could see, hear, think was what she saw in Amélie's office. The nakedness of Lena's chest, the way her eyes alit with panic as the manager forced her unwanted advances onto the vulnerable waitress. The thickness of Amélie's accent as she increasingly fought the other woman back with simple but harsh words and actions, pushing the continuous exposing of Lena as she tore away all barriers separating the two before ultimately forcing herself onto the younger girl.

It made Hana sick, both physically and mentally as another sleepless night passed by, the overall queasy feeling of bile rising up in her throat but never truly escaping staying with her as a permanent reminder of the situation she was in. She was the only person to know.

The night before, the manager had called the younger girl's cellphone. She didn't have the heart to pick it up and speak directly to the cause of her forced wakings. Via voice mail, Hana had been instructed to come into work an hour early the next day, dictating that a talk between the two was necessary. Initially, her heart rate spiked as her mind rushed, ultimately fearing that she had been caught. Scrolling through her contacts, the dark haired girl wondered if calling Sombra would be necessary, gathering an inside form of help to assist her against whatever the manager had planned for her. This notion, however, was brushed off instead, the idea setting that no matter what came at her, it could be handled by herself.

After getting dressed the next morning, Hana began gathering her things, only hesitating slightly when grabbing for her phone. The thought of what was on it disturbed her, leaving it mostly unused for the past few days as she became generally sick when the intrusive thoughts came to her. Stashing it in her jacket's pocket, she began conjuring up a plan just in case the situation went south in any way. Despite the harshly negative reaction she had to the video, at the very least, she could show it to a cop, ultimately ending in the arresting of that disgusting woman. Taking a deep breath, she began heading to Talon.

Parting through the metal back door, she was immediately presented with the image of the manager, down from her high heeled shoes up to her dark pencil skirt and light, form fitting blouse, all complete with her dark hair pulled back into its typical long ponytail. Her heels clicked lightly against the floor as she made her rounds, inspecting the kitchen area as the chefs were busy at work, preparing for the approaching dinner. As the back door squeaked open, the manager's head snapped over, taking in the sight of the young waitress almost frozen in place. She gestured towards the office with a slight tilting of her head to its direction, silently instructing her; an order that was quickly fulfilled.

Hana soon found herself down the short hallway nearby, turning into the door that she had been standing in front of just a few days ago. It was quickly pulled open and silently shut behind her as the dark haired girl pulled out the wooden chair in front of the manager's desk before sitting herself down on the firm wood. Inside held an eerie silence, only making the sterile environment colder and more foreign than expected. In here, the light clanging of pots and pans from the general activity of the kitchen was gone, the only noise heard being the gentle whirring of the air conditioner above. She shifted anxiously in her seat, dark brown eyes searching the plain office for any sort of stimulus to remove her from her thoughts. Apart from the plain black rectangle of the computer monitor and a generally empty desk, a small, delicate glass vase took residence housing a single gently blooming red rose. The only hint of an world existing from outside of the office.

Not even a few moments later, the door behind her creaked open before firmly closing, the hard clicking of heels cutting through the air and pulling her attention from the small bud. The manager pulled out her leather chair before taking a seat, sliding it further into the desk, arm propped up on its surface. "I'm going to get right to the point, Hana. You're fired." She said plainly, voice as cold as ever. "Between breaking everything you touch and hurting fellow employees, I don't think you're a good fit for this restaurant."

As her blank expression and chilled gaze met the 19 year olds', Hana found herself without words, lips moving silently with no speech following it as she struggled to find the right words. "You can't." The younger girl managed to get out as she straightened her posture, sitting herself up straight as a look of partial confidence decorated her features.

"Oh? And why not?"

"I know what you do to Lena when you call her in."

Amélie arched an eyebrow in mild, feigned confusion playing across her features. "What are you talking about?"

Pushing out her seat lightly, Hana got up, justification of her actions hitting her full force. "I know. I have it all on camera." Digging into her pocket, she pulled out her phone before turning it on. With a few, quick swipes of the pad of her thumb, she turned the screen around, exposing the video file to Amélie before pressing play. From the little speakers the soft voices of the waitress and manager trailed through the air as their activities from a few nights ago were presented to the dark haired woman from a different, more sneaky point of view. "It's disgusting what you're doing." The younger woman said, voice cutting over the recording.

The manager's gaze only fell, eyes narrowing as her gaze shifted from the video at hand to the former employee daring to challenge her. "And what do you plan to do with that?"

Hana's expression housed a mixture of emotions, all of which fought for dominance as her plan fell all around her. The widening eyes of surprise soon cut by the fallen features of an almost lost, forlorn hope, all mixed with the scrunched eyebrows of displeasure as her dark eyes scanned over the older woman in front of her before resting back down on her phone at hand. The video had almost come to an end, the clear insult of Lena's inability to close a door playing through the air. "I was originally just looking for dirt, but now," she paused, eyes reconnecting with Amélie's. "I'm going to turn you into the police."

Without hesitation or the sound of protest from the other, she slipped the cell back into her jacket pocket before turning on her heel and parting from the office, leaving her chair in its pulled out state. Reaching for the metal handle, she twisted it open, pulling the dark wood in towards her as she took a step outside. But it was quickly halted short.

Blocking the opening stood a mountain of a man, his mop of grey hair reaching the top of the doorframe. If his height wasn't enough, the rest of his stature sat heavy on his frame, his bulk and girth taking up almost every available space, leaving the younger girl nothing but taken aback. "Umm? Excuse me?" She whined, looking up at him as though expecting a step to the side.

Amélie stood up from her place at the desk, walking a few paces around it before landing a few feet away from the dark haired girl. From its position at her side, her hand extended, thin fingers outstretched in front of her. "Hand me the phone, Hana." She commanded, voice tight and firm like a parent giving their child one last warning.

"No way." She shot back, taking a half step to the side as though attempting to move back the blockade.

"Is there nothing me nor Mako here can do to convince you otherwise?"

Hana twirled around, placing a hand on her outturned hip as her eyes alit with a force of confidence, a smug smile tweaking on the corner of her lips. "No, you deserve everything that is coming to you."

"Pity," Amélie said simply, her hand falling back to her side. "Because I'm all done playing this game. Mako, take care of her."

A large hand was placed on her with a harsh force, grabbing it firmly as his thick fingers wrapped around her shoulder, dwarfed by comparison. As a wave of confusion began to wash over the younger girl, a sickening crack cut through the air, a sharp, unforgivable pain shooting through her along with it. It was as though her entire chest crumpled in an instant, her breath coming out short and shallow as each second of her existence became a misery. There was a yanking, twisting on the middle of her chest, her body, now weak and limp with unimaginable searing pain, following through the movement as it jerked along with it.

Her head dropped down, gaze slowly focusing on the growing circle of dark red staining her shirt. From the top of her sternum stuck a large protrusion, sticking a good five inches out of her as its old, rusted metal hooked up and through her, cementing Hana in place, not only in through the absolute bout of shock it had sent her through, but also the added fear it presented. As she struggled for breath, her eyes became blurry, vision leaving her as the world became a series of blobs and colors, twisting and distorting out of reality as touch with it left her.

Weakly, she reached up, her shaky fingers wrapping around the hook, hands staining with her own blood through. Using her remaining bit of strength, Hana slowly lifted her head back up, eyes falling onto Amélie's for one last second, all life slowly fading from her eyes as the younger girl fell back, her body slumping further onto the protrusion, back making contact with Mako's stomach.

As the show came to an end, Amélie's gaze left the scene in front of her as the manager turned around in her place, stepping back over to her desk as she sank back down into the material of her chair once more. With a few clicks of her nails on the keyboard, her eyes locked themselves back to the screen of the computer as she went back to the paperwork at hand. Lifting the wooden handle of the meat hook fixed between his thick ring and middle finger, Hana's body slumped further over onto itself as it raised up, her middle folding over as the rubber soles of her feet left the ground.

As Mako made his way down the hall connecting the office to the kitchen area, her body hung pathetically on the metal point, arms dangling as her head limply swung side to side. With every step, a trail of fresh blood pouring onto the ground, marking his path as he made his way to the outside.

* * *

Author's (Kate) Note: And you say now that there's violence. After the scene in the previous chapter where Lena got shot. Perfect. I have been waiting for this part of the story for a long time, mostly the part that just happened. Alec is wanting me to tell you that there will be happy times coming up soon, but.. Where is the fun in that?


	11. Chapter 10: Sois ma invitée

Disclaimer: I do not, not not own OW.

Author's (Kate) Notes: With classes ending, little time has been left to write. This is the excuse for the late update and I'm sticking with it.

* * *

Chapter 10 - Sois ma invitée

A low, warm glow of orange light dispersed around the establishment from hanging fixtures, challenging the growing brightness outside as the sun rose higher overhead as the day progressed and the atmosphere filled more and more with lively chatter as patrons filed in. Mounted above the back bar sat a series of plasma screen televisions each tuned to different sports-related channels that gave Overwatch bar and grill their edge as a go to destination for fans when a certain team's big game was on. Amongst the crowd dispersed around the bar and surrounding seating area sat the familiar brunette waitress and Russian bartender of the more up-scale, yet still competing restaurant not too far away.

With her gaze cast up and on one of the nearby screens, Zarya's green eyes remained completely locked on the actions of the global sports stars flaunting their abilities on the world stage that kicked off the beginning of the Olympics. As the athletes worked themselves, her focus did not leave for a moment, even when her hands blindly reached for the paper-wrapped wire basket that held her meal of wings. It took little effort for her to make short order of the large bounty that all resulted in a pile of bones and thick sauce in no time; the only memory of the food ever existing resulting in the light staining of her fingertips that she idly sucked on once the mass had dwindled down to nothing.

Across the wooden, plate-littered table sat Lena, her small stature dwarfed by the high leather backing of the booth and the added effort of curling in on herself as the waitress's shoulders slumped in on themselves, her focus refusing to leave anything but its view of the table. In front of her sat a hardly touched portion of fries, the brunette taking her time to eat them one by one. As time passed, an overwhelming majority remain positioned about the plate, completely untouched as they gradually cooled to room temperature.

As the event faded out and the following line of commercials began, the bartender's gaze shifted back onto the table in front of them, her grabbing the condensation-littered glass in front of her and placing the rim to her lips, taking a drink of its contents. The sip was cut short as she caught sight of her coworker across from her, spirits low and head lower. The glass met the table with a clink as she rested her elbow on the surface, using it to slightly lean forward. "Hey," she began, "you doing okay?" Rather than questioning the state of her emotion, bringing attention to the other's depressed state, favor situated itself moreso on Lena's arm as the larger woman gestured to it.

Lena looked up, the other's words roping her back into reality. "Hm? Oh, yeah." She began, a slight, forced smile decorating her lips. "I'm doing fine."

Her arm was gestured to once more, the original prompt clearly not seen. "And how about that?"

It was with this that the waitress slowly wrapped her fingers around the afflicted limb, the thick and bulky bandages poking out through the added fabric of her sling over her jacket. Between her current state and the atmosphere around her, the sounds of the overhead game created a buffer in reality, allowing it to completely slip her mind. "It's doing better. The doctor says I should be good to take off the sling."

"And you're sure you don't remember what they looked like? I wanted to see how many punches they can take before they die."

At this, Lena's smile only grew a bit, her internal alerts finally dying down as the distraction she needed came to her. "Yeah, sorry. It's all a little blurry."

Zarya leaned more onto her propped up arm, her gaze shifting from the brunette's bicep and resting onto the soft features of her face. "At least you got some time to rest it. Boss must really like you."

"Yeah…" Lena began, voice trailing off as her the intrusive memory struck her as the scene unfolded in front of her once again. The harsh, scowling face of the leader as he looked from the package to her. The blinding hot heat that raced through her arm. The sight of her attacker's face as life drained from his eyes. Images and sounds surrounded her memory once again as they had for the past couple of days, leaving the brunette with the haunting images that could have very well been the last things she saw.

Shaking the memories off, she grounded herself once again. "I'm actually going into work today. I got a call this morning. Apparently Hana hasn't shown up in a while and they need me to cover."

This struck a noticeable nerve in the bartender as the corner of her lip twitched into a scowl. "Couldn't they get someone else? You couldn't lift that much before. How are they expecting you to work?"

The brunette gave a slight shrug. "They told me I would just be getting drinks and taking orders. Nothing too bad. Besides, I'm no good just being cooped up at home. Get bored and lonely."

A voice cut through the air as the TV's screen darkened once again, the commercials having come to an end as the events started back up. With a few presses of a button, the tender behind the bar raised the volume as a the footer raised listing flags, names, and most importantly, the next event's title: 'Women's 200m dash' - Emily's event.

After scanning over certain big name contestants having already taken medals, the camera panned wide-angle, taking view of the curve of runners positioned around the track, each one with their foot on the white line. Despite the far view, her tied up mop of ginger hair could clearly be seen. An overwhelming sense of dread befell Lena as the whole bar became quiet to the brunette as every other stimulus was drowned out; the announcer's voice filling the empty void and leaving her with nowhere to turn. Not with it positioned right above Zarya's head.

The signaling shot cut through the air as the racers left their beginning marks, each hitting the ground running as a roar came over the live audience, each cheering on their own racer. The angled line of runners straightened out as they went about the track, a w-shape coming forth as participants poked ahead or fell behind the others. As their feet hit the polyurethane ground with speeds practically unmatched, Lena found herself unable to tear away as her focus solo'd out on Emily. It was only a matter of time until the finish line approached, runners pushing themselves even further to be the first one over it. As strides became longer and quicker, runner after runner made it over, singling the end of the event. With the ground-level camera replaying the mess of the finish, the participants to advance onto the next race were named: Emily included.

The small, sad smile that poked at the corner of Lena's lips almost fell in an instant as the team's coach parted from the sidelines, placing a congratulatory hand on the red-head's back. A noticeable pit grew in the brunette's stomach as she tore her gaze away from the screen.

Without a word, Zarya slid out of the booth and stood, nodding for the other to do the same. "We are going." Despite her surprise, Lena did as she was told, getting up and following the other out the door.

Once the two stepped into the chilled air of the outside world, the larger woman placed her hand on the other elbow, stretching her thick arm across her chest. "I hate sitting for too long." She commented before letting them both drop to her sides and turning to her coworker. "When your arm gets better, you should let me work on it. I'll get it working better than ever."

Lena couldn't help but smile, the other's intentions clear once she navigated her away from it all. "Sure thing."

* * *

As Lena made her way around the corner, the restaurant appeared in front of her once again as it had done many times before. The brunette allowed an exhale to escape her slightly parted lips at this sight, the walk between the apartment and Talon having been characteristically shorter than she expected. With there being too little time to bug off and mess around elsewhere, the waitress came to term with just spending the remaining time in the back room as the restaurant was still making preparations to open.

Rounding the side of the building, she pulled open the back door, her insides soon alight with alert as the sound of ringing metal cut through the air, a panicked scream following along after it. It took Lena all of two seconds to yank the door the rest of the way open and enter the kitchen space where one of the culprits was seen as a couple of pots lain strewn across the floor.

As she approached the out of place cookware, the familiarly stern and heavily accented voice halted the momentary silence, the power and intent behind it clear in its execution. "Where did you say you learned how to cook? Look at this, it's a disaster."

A second, much smaller voice spoke up in response. "I'm sorry, I was just trying to cut up the-" It was meek, timid, everything Amélie's wasn't.

"Cut all your fingers, with what I saw." Amélie replied, amusement clearly not there.

As Lena rounded the corner, the sight of smaller woman met her. Standing just an inch shorter than her, and providing enough of a difference between her and the manager to make the latter turn her gaze quite downwards, the new hire stood before her, her hands drawn in upon herself as her anxious view behind thick rimmed glasses remain fixed away from the taller woman before her. "Sorry," she squeaked out, only shrinking in further on herself, the light above catching the metal snowflake of her pin keeping the bun poking out from under her cap firmly in place.

Heels clicked against the floor as Amélie moved past the new hire and towards the open station nearby where everything had been placed. Just as swiftly as she had grabbed the knife, the manager began to cut the pile of vegetables in front of her with quick, long, rocking strides, each chopped piece coming out cleanly and evenly. As she further fed the vegetable to the fluid downward motion of the knife, she continued her speech.

"What did you think you were doing here? You are wasting your time, and more importantly, mine. How are you ever going to survive when the orders are flooding in? Every order will be different with different cooking times and it must all be done at once." With her last word, the last slice had been made and both parts added to the growing pile before the taller woman had slammed the knife back onto the cutting board, a product of her speed and blatant irritation that was further painted by her downturned eyebrows and deep scowl.

With her frustration at the new chef so upfront and captivating, Amélie barely took note of Lena's nearby presence, instead blinded by her own anger. Once again, she pushed Mei aside. "Let me show you. Keep your elbows tucked in and your sleeves out of the food. When you finish cutting one thing, return to this." She said, posturing herself again.

Glancing to her left proved to be more of a headache as the sight of stacked dirtied pots and pans was presented to her. "And what's this?" She asked, that growing frustration clear in her voice. In an instant, the new chef grabbed the sullied cookware and rushed to put them in the nearby sink, eliciting a sigh from the manager. "If it's not cooking or being prepared in, I don't want to see it on any surface, got it?"

Having witnessed the forefront of Amélie's rage left Mei without words as she simply nodded as fear remained painted on her face.

"Wow," Lena cut in, a smile cutting through her captivated look cast towards Amélie.

Amélie rolled the cuffs of her black blouse back down her pale arms as she walked a bit towards Lena. "And what was so, wow?"

"You," she said, words outlined with an overall sense of awe. "You really looked like you know what you're doing."

"Of course I do," she stated simply. "Who do you think made up all of the recipes?"

Lena's eyes only grew at that, staring up at the taller woman in awe. "Then you're like a great chef, or something!"

Amélie looked down at Lena, a little curious to the whole situation. "Would you like to try?"

The waitress was a bit taken aback by this, her lips fumbling a time before forming the right word. "What?"

"After work, would you want to come to my place for dinner?" Amélie replied raising an eyebrow?

To say that Lena was a little lost was an understatement, her rushing leagues a minute trying to wrap her head around the idea of whether this was a request or a command. Whether she had a legitimate choice in this, or if it would become another thing she was forced to do. Through this, the possibilities of what could happen presented themselves to her as her anxiety began to elevate.

Amélie's voice interrupted Lena's thoughts as she spoke in a lowered tone for only Lena to hear. "I promise, nothing will happen that you don't want."

The brunette conjured up a short, understanding nod. "Okay." The word itself projected the unsureness the waitress felt about herself and the situation before her. But for all she knew, if she had refused the invite, she might have been forced to go anyway.

* * *

With the front doors locked, lights dimmed, flatware and cutlery put away and chairs placed upside down on top of the tables' surfaces, the restaurant sat in a turned down state that allowed for its official closing and departure of its staff. Padding into the kitchen's side room and tapping one of the touchscreens awake, Lena quickly tapped out her employee log in to clock out. Once everything had refreshed and the screen produced an official message declaring so, the waitress grabbed for her small leather backpack nearby, throwing it over her shoulder as she began heading out.

"Lena?" A voice called out, familiar, yet unusually soft in a way that did not seem natural; one that stopped the brunette in her tracks just as she had begun heading down the small hallway. Turning around, the sight of the manager filled her view as she stood just paces away from her office door. As she inspected the waitress, an out of place look of almost concern could be seen through her usual dark, cold eyes, leaving the woman in front of her in a taken aback state. "Would you still like to come over?"

' _Right'_ As the proposal was presented to her once again, a variety of thoughts shot through Lena's head as she conjured up the debate of whether she should pretend to have forgotten, now that it had become clear that Amélie didn't. She gave a slight nod. "Yeah." Turning to face the manager fully, a smile reeking of innocence decorated her features. "Ready when you are, love."

To hear that nickname once again after its use had been voided from the manager for a noticeable time left the woman taken aback as she just stood there for a moment,trying to make sense of the sudden trust and comfortability projected by the brunette. Shaking it off, she locked up the office before leading the shorter woman out the back door and to her car.

As they joined the steady flow of cars through the criss-crossing streets, conversation between the two remain null as an almost overwhelming silence overtook the car. In the leather cushioning of the passenger's seat, Lena remain perfectly still, simply glancing out the side window and focusing on the passing side streets. ' _Maybe if I don't move, she won't see me'_ was the thought that sparked this as the younger woman tried to pass faulty logic she had taken from an early 90's movie.

With her gaze continuously fixed, however, her eyes landed on a billboard as the car halted at a stoplight. Depicting those familiar five intercepting rings across a white background, its lasting impression remain hard on the young, former olympian turned waitress as her eyes became half-lidded as her view dropped to the dark fabric of her lap. Despite the frigid side gaze produced by the manager, every inch of understanding from the other woman came about by way of noticing and the subsequent speeding off the second the light turned green.

After pulling through the lower driveway and parking the car in its appropriate spot, Lena followed the manager over to the opened elevator doors as they took it up to the top floor in silence. With the doors parting once more, Amélie fished her keys out of her dark brown purse, turning the lock before throwing the door open and allowing them inside. As the lights flickered on with the flip of a switch, Lena found herself looking down the small hallway that opened up into the adjacent living space, leaving her with some mixture of awe as she took in the simple yet perfectly decorated area combined with the lowlights of the outside city scape across from the floor to ceiling glass window. She allowed herself to be drawn in by the view as she walked closer, taking in more of the city than she had seen in all this time living here. With the twinkling lights scattered across the inky black water below, all worry was temporarily forgotten as the city took hold of her.

Shutting the door behind them, the dark haired woman unbuttoned her pale grey reefer coat as she nudged it off her shoulders, throwing it over the appropriate hook in the nearby closet. As she pushed that door closed, she looked out into the living room, catching sight of the brunette. For a moment, she was almost as captivated as Lena was with the city, allowing herself to stare for just a second. She could almost feel a small smile poking at the corner of her lips; nothing strong enough to break through her harsh exterior, but still there nonetheless.

"Before I start, can I get you anything?" She asked, parting through the silence and tearing the other away from the scene before them.

A small smile decorated her lips. "Nah, I'm fine, thanks." Her gaze tracked across the space as Amélie parted into the open kitchen. "Do you need any help?"

"No, I got-" She began, so sure of her words until the other woman's expression began to fall as each syllable left her lips. At this, her eyes widened slightly as the rest of the refusal died on her lips. "I guess you can wash the vegetables if you would like."

With a spring in her step, Lena unlooped her bag from around her shoulders as she let it fall onto the fabric of one of the armchairs, immediately heading over to the kitchen afterward. Despite the slight edit to her plan, a noticeable smile poked Amélie's lips.

From the nearby refrigerator, a mason jar was pulled out and placed onto the granite countertop, its contents a pale yellow in color as the garlic confit was clearly painstakingly homemade. Following closeby was a metal pie tin with a layer of plastic wrap stretched across the top. As Lena peered onto it, and arrangement of colorado lamb chops was seen arranged amongst the ruby colored liquid making up the olive oil and tawny port braising liquid, flecks of smashed garlic, parsley, and rosemary seen throughout.

Separate thin white plastic bags were removed and gathered in a handful as the older woman closed the refrigerator door, taking the bundle over to a nearby cutting board and placing them down, the stems and leaves of assorted greens.

"Cut them into 5 cm lengths after you wash them." She stated simply, passing back over to the nearby cabinets as Amélie continued to get out more ingredients for the remainder of the meal.

"You got it." Was all that was said as the Brit got to work, removing the greens from their bags before she ran them under the nearby sink and placing them back on the board. It was only until she positioned her hand over the whole of the vegetable, stance bent and awkward that caused a moment of pause from the other woman as Lena began to chop up the leaves.

With elbows cemented firmly to her ribs and shoulders hunched, the awkward and uneven slicing of the knife struck a nerve as Amélie watched her from the corner of her eye, attention cast away from the bottle of port that was being added to the saucepan in front of her. "What are you doing?"

Looking down at her work, Lena pouted a little as she tried to figure out the foreign technique. "I'm trying to keep my elbows tucked as I cut. Like you were telling Mei."

The short lived annoyance fizzled away as the taller woman began making her way over. "Here, let me help." As she moved behind the brunette, her long arms laced around Lena's as she gently grabbed for her hands. "They should be placed like this." She commented, playing with the others fingers as they were moved into more proper positions around the knife and greens. "Then you just relax." Her fingers now worked their way up the shorter woman's arms as they adjusted the appendages into a more appropriate stance. "Now, when you cut, you want a rocking, slicing action as you move the blade down." Tracing her fingers down the other's arms once again, she laced her spindly fingers over the others', rocking the knife in an appropriate manner as she used her hands to perform.

As she allowed the other to take control, Lena felt away from it all, becoming almost entranced with what she was made to do as her attention slipped from the gravity and possibilities the situation held and instead rested on how the other's touch felt as she used her to perform.

Letting go of the other, Amélie stepped away as she looked from the brunette to the work station in front of her. "Let's see you try."

Shaking out of her trance, Lena gave a slight nod before mimicking the movement she had been doing just a moment ago, copying it with a slightly rickety shake as she sliced through the vegetables.

A feeling of almost pride bubbled up in Amélie as she watched the other. "Très bon." Was all she said as she turned back to continue on with making the port reduction, and ultimately, the rest of dinner.

On two white dishes, the finished product was plated just as the chops were finished cooking, Amélie putting time and effort to arrange the three chops in a spiral, the protruding bones acting as framework as for the structure. In a streak around the edge was placed the reduction, its deep brownish red color staining the striking white of the flatware below; to the left, a sizable portion of braised greens sat, further accenting the meal.

When she turned around, both plates in hand, she was slightly taken aback as she looked into the dimly lit living space, the sight of the fully set table meeting her just as Lena had set down the last fork, lining out the two spots across from each other. A smile traced across the woman's painted lips as she set the dishes down, the shorter woman pulling out one of the chairs before sitting down in the place she deemed to be her own.

Each plate was set between the aligned cutlery before Amélie took back to the kitchen, grabbing two wine glasses by the thin glass stem before grabbing for the bottle in the other hand. As she made her way back over, each glass was placed in front of the plate, the wine taking residence in the middle of the table after the older woman poured her fill. "Would you like some?" She asked, holding the bottle up ever so slightly.

The waitress's eyes left the green glass of the bottle and landed on the other's gaze, a pang of fear shooting up her spine as a wave of possibilities washed over her mind, each thought conjuring up an idea of what might happen in that foreign setting alone with her. "I'm fine, really." She said shortly, cutting her gaze away from the other.

Setting the bottle down, the manager pulled out her own chair. As she sank into it, she raised the glass to her lips, the welcoming, angular taste of the bitter alcohol taking her mind away from the creeping notion of realization as to exactly what Lena was thinking with her offer.

Looking down to the plate in front of her, the brunette looked over the arrangement of food as means to separate herself from the situation. The sight of the spiraled lamb chops became much more palatable than the sharp and intimidating look Amélie's resting face gave. At this point, the notion of what she would do and what would happen to her became an apparent, glaring fact.

"This looks amazing. Thank you." The cool metal of the utensils met her fingers as she grasped for them, selecting one of the chops with the tines and bringing it forward on her plate, allowing the other two to fall over into their place. Cutting through the light pink flesh, the portion was

impaled onto onto her utensil, the meat then lightly dipped into the port reduction coloring the side of the plater. With an earthy, distinctive taste highlighted by the sweetness of the reduction, the flavor came to her in an instant as the rich juices lined her tastebuds. Each part of the meal made its way through as the garlic and rosemary added another level to the meal, further adding complexity to the marinated chop. As she chewed, her eyes widened in surprise, her gaze shifting up to Amélie. With a swallow, she could hardly contain her amazement. "It's incredible! How did you get so good?"

Amélie felt curious about Lena, she seemed so pure - little confused and so pure. "My mother taught me most of what I know, the rest I learned along the way."

"At school?" She asked, attention shifting away from the rich meal in front of her.

"No, travel."

"What were you doing traveling around?"

"Ballet. I used to travel Europe performing with others." With the last part of her sentence leaving her lips, the older woman caught herself, a little surprised with the ease in which she was able to talk to the other.

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Gérard." As the name left her lips, the smallest amount of pain followed after it, striking the woman in a way she did not think it would effect her any more. "When we married, he had a dream of moving to America."

"You were married?" The question in her voice sounded to be of genuine interest as the younger woman continued to egg her on. "What happened?"

A pause fell across the table as Amélie was left with her thoughts on a topic long left alone. Her eyes rested downwards as her gaze traced across the dark grain of the table. After a sigh, she reset. "It's a long story."

The concern that bubbled up inside of Lena turned genuine as she watched the woman in front of her exhibit the most human emotion she had seen. "I'm all ears if you ever need to talk about it."

Amélie grabbed for the bottle in the middle of the table, pouring herself another glass of wine. After that, she needed it.

A small, comforting smile poked at the corner of Lena's lips as she grabbed for her own glass, holding the stem between her thumb and forefinger as she brought it to the middle. "Mind if I join you?"

The other just gave a slight nod, reaching over and allowing the ruby colored liquid to flow into the thin curve of the glass. "You really are something," she commented; a notion that evicted a small giggle from the other party.

As the meal came to an end, all used dishes were ushered back to the kitchen, leaving the dining table back to its natural, empty state. "I'll clean up." Lena said happily, popping up slightly in her stance.

All she was met with was a simple shake of the head. "You go rest. I'll take care of it."

This evoked a small frown from the other party. "That's not fair if you have to cook and clean."

"Your arm is still healing, that's where it becomes fair."

The sharp pain of truth hit her right where it hurt as she looked down at the injured arm as she set the plate down into the bowl of the sink. "Right…"

The pain of truth hit her, she looked over at her arm as she set down her plate at the sink. "Right.." She had a slight moment, remembering the gunfight. She stood there, looking down at the plate.

As Amélie came closer to the other woman, the toll the realization had on her became obvious once she noticed the slight quaking of the other's form. A hand was placed on the brunette's shoulder, palm resting lightly as her her fingertips fell onto her back. "Lena?"

At the contact, the younger woman's eyes widened, the feeling so sudden and unwanted on her that she jumped back.

This initial worry turned to downright concern. "Let's sit you down." Amélie said, her hand not leaving the shoulder as she walked the other over to the couch, gently sitting her down onto the plush material.

Now away from it all, Lena was able to finally snap out of it, the reality of the situation hitting her as she made contact with the furniture. She looked up at the other with a haziness to her. "I'm fine. I promise."

"Rest." Amélie began, removing her hands from the other woman. "Can I get you anything?"

Lena simply shook her head 'no' as she sank further into the cushions.

With reluctance, Amélie parted from the living space, making her way back over to the kitchen as she began the chore of doing the dishes. As she ran them through the suds and water, removing all remaining bits of food, there was a certain speed to her work that fell in line with the slight concern that flowed through her. With every other passing moment, a quick glance was shot over her shoulder as an eye was kept on the guest.

Left alone with nothing but her thoughts, Lena felt for her phone poking awkwardly in her pocket, pulling it out and turning it on as she quickly became occupied with texting.

In only a matter of minutes, the sound of water was turned off, the light clicking of heels approaching soon heard throughout the space. "How are you feeling?" Amélie asked, her voice soft, quiet, everything it normally wasn't.

Her phone was quickly put down and positioned to the side of her lap, the dark screen face down into the fabric of the sofa. "I'm alright, you?" Lena's voice was a little shaky, her words acting as a mirror into the true underlying emotion of general worry regarding where this night may end.

The notion was shrugged off without a single thought put into it. "Who were you texting?" A question accented with the other woman planting herself into the adjacent sofa.

"Oh, um…" It took the brunette a moment of shifting the idea back and forth before deciding to comply. "Emily."

"Is she that girl you were talking to at work?"

"Yeah." Her voice was a mixture of confusion and confession between deciding whether to focus on the fact that Amélie remembered, or continue with the conversation at hand.

"And who is she to you?"

The initial words she wanted to reply with formed and died on her lips as her response of 'girlfriend' was short lived just as her chance for it to have been a true answer had come and gone. "She was on my track team since high school."

"Is that it?" That other woman asked, her legs crossed as she looked across to the other in genuine interest.

Lena's gaze fell down to her lap. "Kind of…"

"What happened?"

A small smile formed on her lips as she looked back up at Amélie, their gazes connecting. "It's a long story, love."

This was met with a simple rolling of the other's eyes as the manager found little amusement in the other's attempt at irony.

"What, don't like the taste of your own medicine?"

"Never have."

Lena was taken aback for a moment, lines of confusion forming on her face. "Was that a joke?" She asked, her voice reflecting the emotion before being cut by a laugh that bubbled up in her throat. "What happened to all your 'Do I look like I joke' stuff?"

Just as quickly as it had come, the chuckle left her as she thought back to the first time the manager had told her that; just shortly after the waitress had asked for the extra hours. Her heart grew heavy once again as the emotion of the night continued to become more and more mixed between tolerable and unsavory.

Before she had realized it, Amélie closed the part between them as she sat next to her, taking position with only a few inches between them. Slowly, her fingers found their way to Lena's leg, her touch resting on it as the tips threatened to touch her inner thigh.

* * *

Author's (Alec) Notes: CLIFF HANGER, sorry… We cooked this meal twice and still do not know how to describe it. This became a hard chapter to write. It was a recipe I made back in culinary school, and where I can describe in detail how to make it, the taste was more important and the hardest to do. Anyway. Thank you to everyone who joined me for Overwatch. Kate and I had a lot of fun and would love to play with more of you. We play on PC almost every night, just pm us with your Battle net.

Kate and I arguing like; Kate: French fries. Alec: Chip. Kate: FRENCH fries. Alec: CH-ips

Kate's Disclaimer: We don't own Ratatouille either. Sorry Pixar.


	12. Chapter 11: La recherche de la vérité

**Updates 1:** Hey this is Alec. We wanted to give a friendly update on our summer posting schedule. We just attended San Diego Comic Con, where I got to finally cosplay Tracer and we had a lot of fun. We will be taking a 3 week road trip visiting 15 states with 75 hours of driving. During this time we plan to release 1 more chapters, before summer ends (September 3rd..ish). During this road trip we decided to take pictures and start a twitter called PSH_Stories.

 **Update 2:** Alec still. We want to announce that we have started a new story for the summer. TracerxWidow. It's just a fun story of two people falling in love after a tragedy and a long cab drive. We will be writing this on the weeks before and during the road trip. The first chapter will be up before the 14th. The title will be 'A Night's Ride'.

 **Disclaimer:** No soy dueño de Overwatch, pero a quién le importa. Continuemos con la historia.

 **Author's (Alec) Note:** Sorry this is so short and took soon long. This chapter was twice the length and we cut it, and will probably never use it. It hard to see so much work disappear, but at least we are back.

* * *

 **Chapter 11:** **La recherche de la vérité**

Heavy lids parted open, exposing sensitive eyes to the streams of morning light that leaked in from the nearby window, parting through the heavy and giant curtains that stretched across the wall-sized pane of glass. Layered in the touch of a heavy white bedspread and with the press of a cushy pillow to her cheek which partially obscured her view that still was coming into focus, Lena blinked a few times, clearing the grim and blur of slumber as more of the room came to her. As she glanced around, nothing seemed to spark her memory from last night as the area seemed more and more foreign. Her eyes ran across the nightstand next to her before skipping across the room as she pushed herself up into more of a sitting position, allowing herself to take in more. Across the way, an armchair stood only paces from the end of the bed, its seat pointed inward as a small plant and hardcover took residence on the small glass side table. At the end of the room, just near the door, sat a large dresser, above of which hung a long rectangular mirror which housed her current image and highlighted the large, wild spikes of her sleep tousled hair. With each feature now bathed in the morning light, the room seemed strikingly different than it had last night; the clear reality of it all washing over the original, intimidating view of the room as it was presented all dark and angular.

Next to her, the form of Amélie lay at rest, pale eyelids closed as dark eyelashes fanned out across her cheek, her bow-shaped lips parted slightly as her breath came by way of a slow and steady rhythm. Around her, the silky locks of her black hair ran like ink, pooling and circling around the woman in a fluid, yet kept nature.

 _She told the truth._ Was the first thing that came to the brunette's mind as the events came to her as the last bit of hazy sleepiness escaped. The cooking, the dinner, the small breakdown, all of which led up to those spindly fingers fanned across Lena's inner thigh. But that was the closest that she had come. Nothing but a suggestive touch before the manager's focus had shifted and her presence raised from leg to arm as she assisted the waitress up the stairs and into the bedroom. After handing her the sleep shirt she was currently wearing, few words were shared between the two as she was ushered into the king sized bed and encouraged to sleep. Despite the few and weak protests from Lena, dormancy washed over her in a matter of moments.

She pulled the heavy comforter off of her before swinging her legs over the side, taking her time to slowly get up as to not wake up Amélie with neither the noise nor the sudden change in presence. Her feet reached the cushy material of the rug underneath as she got up, making short order of the space between her and the dresser. With her clothes from the night before in a nice folded pile, Lena began ridding herself of the borrowed shirt as she pulled it up and over her head, letting the soft white fabric of it drape over the dresser's wooden finish.

Lena put her arms through the sleeves of her shirt after shrugging on her bra, allowing the fabric of the white button up shirt to lay over her chest as she began working the plastic buttons into the proper slots. As her fingers made their way down the line, the sudden sound of creaking wood caught her attention, making the waitress jump nearly out of her skin, hands flying around the exposed part of her chest as she pulled the fabric together that hadn't been buttoned yet. With only a shirt half on and her white and pink polka dot underwear poking out from underneath the blouse's tails, the younger woman turned around to see Amélie sitting up in bed, gaze fixed on the waitress.

Dark eyes noticeably ran over the stretch and subtle curves of the brunette's figure before settling on the growing redness of the other's cheeks. "Sorry," she said, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips as she shifted her head to the side, facing the view out and below the window. "I'll give you your privacy."

With prickling heat coloring her face, Lena turned away despite how clearly this uncharacteristic action took her by surprise. "Thank you." Her voice was light in the air as she got back to work, shrugging on the remaining bits of her clothing. With the ends of her white shirt remaining untucked from her slacks and crinkled, unrolled sleeves trailing down a bit over her palms, the brunette soon dropped to the floor, pulling on her shoes.

As the rustling of fabric had come to an end, white sheets were pulled off of and away from the manager as she got up, her toes touching the soft rug beneath as she ran her hands from the tops of her thighs downward, straightening the formfitting skirt of her black silk nightgown. "Would you like some breakfast before you go?"

"No thank you." Lena responded plainly, focused on the task of tying her laces. "I should get going, anyway."

"At least let me drive you home." The offer was given as Amélie made short order of the space between the bed and the closet, the door soon being pulled open as an arrangement of clothes was presented to her. Selection took little time as a hanger was removed from its rack sporting an outfit of little variation from her typical attire.

"It's fine. I'm going to see Angela about my arm today." With both laces tied firmly, the waitress stood back up, fully ready despite the disheveled look that hung over her.

"How do you plan to get there?" The arch of her eyebrow raised.

"Walk." She stated simply, attempting to avoid Amélie's prodding.

Her frown noticeably deepened at this. "Let me take you. Angela wouldn't like hearing that you walked to the warehouse in your condition."

A sense of defeat fell over the brunette as a short breath was let out. "Alright," she said slowly. "If you insist."

Her gaze happened to connect with the taller woman in front of her just as the silky fabric was pulled up and over her head, the manager ridding herself of the material as the bare alabaster expanse of her naked form became apparent. Lena couldn't look away fast enough.

The curve and swell of her breasts, the stretch of taut skin over her stomach and hips; despite contact being quickly broken, the images still played in Lena's mind as she shamefully looked over to the door. "Sorry, love. I'll wait for you downstairs."

"No bother," Amélie began, her voice laced with the smugness of a smirk. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

Any intention to move quickly died in Lena's limbs as she became almost frozen in place, the other's words taking her back to the reality of it all. Of what situation she was in. She let out a quiet, nervous laugh as she tried to force those thoughts back out of her mind, leading focus to the task at hand as her limbs found mobility again, pushing through the door as she headed downstairs without another word.

With the sound of clicking heels announcing her descent down the stairs only a few minutes later, Amélie walked past Lena, grabbing her purse and keys where they had been left the night before.

Amélie appeared a few minutes later.

The drive to the warehouse was relatively short, lengthened purely by the lack of conversation as both driver and passenger sat in silence. As they had before, Lena's gaze drifted out the window, watching as they went down street after sidestreet, looking at the buildings as they went past. With this silence came an air of relief to the brunette, the embarrassment from before still cycling through her as the other's words remain ever present in her mind. Despite this solace, an underwhelming of disappointment came forth as well. As they passed by businesses and pedestrians, Lena couldn't help but feel at loss not only with Amélie, but with herself.

As they approached the brick building of the warehouse, Amélie pulled over to the side of the street. With her gaze fixed on the stretch of road ahead of her, the older woman's typical manner of presentation took over once again as she Wordlessly, Lena reached for the metal handle, grasping it as the door unlocked and she let herself out. Only a few seconds later did the car pull away, leaving Lena alone at the base of the building.

Nearby, the door opened up for the brunette, Angela's face peering through the crack. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she opened it up a bit more, allowing the other to come inside. She wordlessly looked over the other's old and disheveled clothing that had clearly been worn yesterday, trying to push away creeping thoughts of what could have happened from her mind after catching brief sight of Amélie's car. Taking the brunette down a row of assorted boxes and crates, she held open a stretch of sheet towards the back wall, allowing the other inside.

Entering a mock examination room, the doctor pulled out a chair for the brunette, allowing her some form of comfort as she closed the blue curtain that wrapped around the space. "Lena," she began, soon taking the seat across from her. "Did you spend the night at Amélie's?"

The waitress's answer came out short and choppy, the delivery almost forced and awkward in nature. "Yea, but nothing happened. She just made me dinner."

Angela's eyes subtly ran over Lena, seeking signs before presenting the follow up question. "Did you have anything to drink?"

The anxiety within her arose as her lips struggled to put words together, mind racing with possibility, doubt, and reasoning regarding the fact that nothing came out of last night. "No, I mean yes, but only a little. And nothing happened."

A slight sigh was released from the doctor, the other's fear clearly painted on her face. "Alright, I believe you." She got up, rolling the sleeves of her coat back. "I'll run some tests anyway to make sure you're healing up nicely."

Tenseness in Lena's form relaxed as the questioning had come to an end, instead finding something oddly soothing about Angela's presence so close to her as the white sleeve of her shirt was rolled up, exposing the wound in question. Buried underneath layers of bandages, gauze, and tape, the flesh met the air once again as careful eyes ran over it.

The brunette looked away during the process, instead focusing on the pale blue of the curtain that surrounded any opening to the rest of the warehouse. As she spaced out in the moments of quiet, her mind ran. "What do you know about Gérard?" She asked, voice cutting through the silence.

Concentration was broken the moment that name was mentioned as Angela paused, momentarily lost in thought. "Amélie's husband?" Her voice seemed far away as her eyes remained fixed on the wound in front of her. "Why do you want to know about him?"

"What happened to him?" She asked, dodging the other's question.

A slow sigh was released through the doctor's slightly parted lips, knowing fully and exhibiting no enjoyment with where this conversation was going. "Gérard died three years ago."

A wave of pain shot through Lena at this. She couldn't help but think back to last night when he was mentioned, the sight of Amélie's half-lidded eyes and downturned lips filling her head as an overwhelming sense of guilt and regret filled her. Maybe bringing it up wasn't the best idea… "How did he die?"

Being in front of Lena brought the doctor a real sense of the situation that she was in. Young, naïve, innocent. It wasn't too long ago that she herself was in this very position. Just learning what this life entailed. A tinge of guilt tugged at her as the necessity to be honest became apparent. "I'm not too sure. According to what I read, it was another gang, but according to a few others, they said that they saw Amélie do it."

Lena's eyes widened as she looked up at the doctor's face, looking over her expression to see that her hope of it being a joke lived and died in very brief duration. "Why would she do that? The way she was talking about him..I thought she really loved him."

The older woman gave a slight shrug. "Who knows? I wouldn't think too much about it."

* * *

 **Flashback: The Widow's Kiss**

With the front of the restaurant locked from the outside world for at least a few more hours, Amélie found herself parting through the back door near the loading dock. Each passing step produced a slight click of her heeled shoes as they made contact with the hard floor beneath. Given the relative emptiness of the immaculate setup, this rang out through the dimmed lights and narrowed halls as she traced her way to the manager's office. Her usual knock was pushed away and forgotten as her fingers wrapped around the knob, pulling it open in one swift motion that exposed the inside outward. Sitting behind the wooden desk, partially hidden by the screen of the computer, sat the familiar scarred face.

Partially propping his head up with the sprawled fingers of his hand around the skin of his forehead, Gabriel sat slumped over, eyes glued to the screen beside him. His eyes were half lidded, producing the air of tiredness that clung to his body like an odor, the crinkles around his forehead and eyes giving sight to the stress that had built up in him over time. Despite full knowledge of the woman being there, his gaze didn't part from the screen.

"Gabriel," she began, voice soft and uneasy with a growing anxiety. "Is something wrong? Gérard hasn't called me back."

The thick, callused skin of his fingertips met his forehead, slow, soft circles rubbing just above his brow ridge as though the action could target and kill stress on sight. His mind raced a as words he wished not to speak formed and died in formation. As hard as he could try, there would never be an easy way around it. "I think they got him, Amélie" he began, voice further back in his throat than it normally was, words lacking their usual underly of confidence. "I'm sorry."

Her heart pounded heavily in her chest as words she never wanted to hear were processed over and over. "What happened?" she asked almost in a whisper, wanting to believe she did not hear him correctly.

"He went into the warehouse to 'take care' of Akinjide." Despite emphasis being made around the suggested words, nothing in its nature was of any amusement regarding the mistake. "I haven't seen him since.

Thoughts raced through her head as a growing pressure developed in the younger woman's chest, her upper body alight with the fire of anxiety that plagued her as she struggled to formulate what could possibly be done in such a foreign situation. "I need to go help him."

Gabriel put an arm out, halting the woman in her tracks. "I can't let you do that." Despite some form of action needing to be taken, there was no way in his mind that he could allow the very man's wife to be the one. He didn't want both of their fates to result similarly.

"I need to, Gérard.." She couldn't let herself think like that "I'll be safe. Gérard taught me how to use a sniper. I'll just climb the building across from the warehouse and see if he is okay."

The block halting her movement slowly dropped as Gabriel allowed his arm to fall back to his side, silently and slowly giving in to the other. "Alright, but don't do anything too hasty. I'll get some backup before going in."

Amélie gave a nod both of agreement and understanding before she slipped past the space that had been impassable only moments before. With hurried steps, she took down the hall, soon finding herself in front of a door. It was pulled open with haste, exposing the open floor space of the dimly lit showcase.

Three of the walls stood stretched almost floor to ceiling with pegboard, each smaller space holding shelves and clasps to keep the aide assortment of weapons that had been stockpiled over time due to necessity and preference. The black haired woman's eyes ran across the lain out and assorted stock, soon falling on what she had been looking for: the SR-25 sniper rifle. Her slender fingers found their way around the groves as they naturally fell into position, lifting the firearm off from its peg. Thrusting it into the long black carrying case, a few boxes of ammo were tossed in before being zipped closed and the strap was thrown over her shoulder.

Getting to where she needed to be was a blur created by the rush of adrenaline and the anxiety the situation held. Her driving was the direct representation of it, the short trek full of sharp turns and swerves, the gas pedal being pressed harsher than usual as she sped through the streets, eventually parking haphazardly in a nearby sideline close enough to where she knew he would be.

It was in a matter of moments that she found herself at the top of the building, the nearby fire escape proving its unconventional use. Amélie set the black bag down on the rooftop, her fingers fumbling with the zipper as she pulled it open, exposing the weapon inside. With haste, it was pulled out, its prop set firmly as she lain herself down onto her stomach, laying flat against the ground.

She took a moment to adjust herself, wrapping her fingers around the riffle as she had been shown how. The cold metal of the scope pressed to her eye as she held the weapon firmly to herself, changing the position slowly and slightly as she gazed across the sidestreet. Soon, just as she had expected, the target was seen, his back turned to the sniper as he presumably dealt with the very business that required her expertise. With the reticle positioned squarely over the space of his bald head, Amélie let out a slow, deep breath through parted lips, her index finger soon squeezing the trigger.

Immediate relief was brought to her as the body tumbled to the ground, sight of him leaving the scope as the kingpin was toppled from his throne. A smile tugged at the woman's lips just for a moment before her eye caught sight of a detail she hadn't noticed before: the view of a shadowed figure slumped in a nearby chair.

Getting out of position, Amélie took little time climbing down the escape, a new speed in her steps as she ran over to where her scope had been viewing just moments before. Across the tiled floor, the large form of his body lain collapsed, the kingpin's arms loosely at his side as he lain face first into the hard ground. Around him, a thin layer of crimson blood pooled, slowly spreading outwards as more of the fluid left the fresh wound, something Amélie tried hard to not think about as she made her way around it. She only had one mission on her mind.

In a matter of seconds, her steps halted, completely unable to progress further as every attempt of a movement died. Her heart nearly stopped, freezing in her chest as she took in the sight in front of her. Gérard's form remain partially in shadow, his body propped and firmly tied to a metal folding chair with coils of thick rope. His mouth rested partially open, pencil mustache following the downturned curve of his upper lip. Eyes having drifted close, his long black eyelashes lay in shadow across his cheeks, exposing the deep veins of his upper lids. His normally styled hair now fell forward following his downturned head, cowlicks falling away and fanning across his forehead. Almost perfectly dead in the center of his forehead was a telltale bullet hole that allowed streams of dark crimson to travel down the center of his face like sick waterfalls as the liquid pooled and clotted in the curves of his features and stain him.

Amélie's body betrayed her, legs buckling out from underneath as her lower half gave way, sending the woman tumbling to the floor just feet away from him. As the reality of the situation adamantly washed over every blurred thought her mind struggled to conjure, the rims of her eyes began to fill with stinging tears. She was too late.

The spindly lengths of her fingers slowly extended, trembling as she tried to reach for him, her body seemingly unable to formulate any other movement. "Gérard." The shakiness of her voice called out in vain, tone wavering at the turn of each syllable.

The thundering sound of rushing footsteps tore her away from the thoughts that plagued her mind, thrusting her back into reality with little warning and preparation. Progressively getting louder, each stride brought a relative anxiety that soon heightened in her. Panicking, she reached over to the kingpin's fallen form, grasping for the pistol kept holstered at his side. The cold metal stung the strangely hot skin of her palms as she cradled it, readying herself for whatever came through the door.

Almost the second the strange, foreign faces of the pin's men appeared, it took little to no time for the sights to line up, a slender finger dictating the two shots that would put a halt to their lives permanently. Shakily, the gun was lowered, her grip on it releasing as the clatter to the floor echoed throughout the room. Her stomach twisted sickeningly as her view caught the sight of those three men whose lives she had taken so easily, so quickly and without thought. Glancing across the floor, she wondered truly what she had become. What life up to this point had turned her into.

Slowly, her gaze shifted back onto the slumped form of the man she had once known. Her words came out softly, scarcely spoken above a whisper. "Je suis, et pour toujours, je serai, désolé mon amour, j'étais trop tard."

Another pair of footsteps soon rang through the walls of the building, hard rubber soles scuffing their way across the tile floor. At this point, there was nothing left Amélie could do. Nothing to mend, nothing to edit. This mark on her life would be ever present like a too-deep scar only noticeable to others when shown off, but forever burned into the mind of its owner. Her reactions were slow and weak as she kept her arms firmly around the form of the man she had once been married to. Even in his dying, his warmth was still there, providing the newfound widow little comfort as she lain her head in his lap, her eyes closed firmly. She was too drained to fight anymore.

Soon, the footsteps stopped, a large, firm hand landing on the material of her shoulder. The heat of its palm radiated through the thin layer of the clothing, searing the skin underneath. When had she gotten so cold? Slowly, she lifted her head up, her gaze falling over her shoulder and onto the scarred face she had seen only half an hour ago. His dark eyes remain locked on her, his view refusing to shift even slightly to the sight a little above her. Gabriel knelt down, the worn fabric of his jeans bending around the knees as he put his arms around Amélie's trembling form, pulling the woman close in such an uncharacteristic moment of compassion.

In a moment, everything broke down around her. Hot tears began pooling at her lids as the overwhelming gravity came to her, the woman's emotions having built up enough to crumble under its tremendous weight. They sat in silence between the two fallen bodies, one a long-time enemy, the other a friend, a partner, a husband. In the still air, Gabriel's arms tightened around her, his hand smoothing over her hair as the sound of her sobs were lightly muffled by his chest. As he sat there, holding Amélie close to her, he wished that there were some words of comfort that he could speak that would bring anything to her, but at this point in time, not even an attempt could be genuinely made.

* * *

Author's (Kate) Note: In all honesty, this chapter has been one of the hardest to write. This is definitely frustrating since it also happens to be the one I have been looking forward to the most. Writing the last section proved to be emotionally and mentally draining as I had to really put myself in the scenario. The saddest part is that imagining this wasn't a difficult task, coming almost sickeningly easy to me. Ever since the release of Gérard's image, I could not help but place real and true emotion onto him with what happened to him. To transform this emotion into a more realistic and modern day interpretation proved to be even more heavy-hitting. Here is just hoping that I communicated it correctly.

Just wanted to take time very quickly to thank everyone reading. This entire process has been long and difficult, but all of it is rewarding once we hear back from you guys. I love reading over reviews and seeing what everyone thinks of a certain piece that took a number of hours to properly word out. From goofy to sincere, I love every bit of it. [Even when I'm called sadistic]. Thank you all.


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